Page 473 - NIXBOOK

In our small locker room at the station there was a walk-in shower, which was a perfect place to wash the dog. Every shower
ended with me throwing a towel on him to stifle his urge to shake the water off; I had to then quickly rush him about 20 feet
out in the garage where he was then free to shake off all the water he wanted there because it only took me once to see that
shaking off in the locker room was a disaster. He learned to wait a few seconds and endure a fast escort into the garage, where
he would then get a thorough drying off with towel after a good shake. On more than one occasion Officer Stacey gladly soaped
him up. For some reason he tolerated the whole shower experience a lot more when she was in there with him. He got a shower
about once a week, and we used regular old Johnson’s baby shampoo.

To my consternation some officers would (affectionally) call him a “stinky dog” even after his shower. “He’s not a stinky dog!” I
yell back. “He’s still wet from a shower!”

Some of my trainings were in Seattle and I got to ride the ferry and back instead of driving the long way around Puget Sound
via Tacoma. It was fun to take Kilo up into the passenger cabin and walk around; he was a real attention getter. I actually didn’t
like a lot of people staring at me, but once I realized everybody was looking at him and not me, then I was okay with it.