"Oh, he's a fine looking poodle. Do you plan on grooming him with a traditional poodle cut? You know shave the belly and such? I only ask because in addition to an obedience school, my son Brad has a grooming business."
"A poodle cut? Does he offer packages for grooming and training?" Karl asked.
Chad whined. Brad? His older brother was one sick m-f-er. Whenever Chad visited his place, Brad's mastiff Max would try to hump him. Brad used his stud dog Max to train other dogs. He'd let Max terrorize, and knot with them. Didn't matter whether it was a stud, bitch or spayed/neutered animal, Max would mount and knot with it. After one or two breedings, the broken student would be ready for Brad's obedience training. No, not Brad. Not Max!
"What's got into him? Don't worry boy, we're not going to neuter you today," he turned and asked Karl, "Are you?"
"Hadn't decided yet. I guess it depends on how his obedience training goes?" Karl said with a shrug.
"I'm glad Brad referred you to me," Chad's dad said.
Brad referred Karl to him? Did Brad know what Karl had done? Brad? He wouldn't? He couldn't? Chad had a bad feeling that Brad could be behind his current condition.
About fifteen minutes later, Chad had his shots, and was waiting in a cage while the receptionist typed up the paperwork.