My first few years as a professional dog walker, I was treated to pretty much the same curiosity each time I disclosed what I did for a living: Everyone wanted to know if I had sex with my clients. I never quite got my head around why this question occurred to anyone. Best I could deduce, dog walkers figured for many people much as pool boys have in literary and cinematic tropes. The key distinction between the two, much to the disappointment of anyone convinced of this unwieldy conflation, is that the work pool boys perform occurs at the home. My primary obligation was to get out of it—ideally with one or more dogs in tow.
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