It was an old concrete bunker of a building. Giant gears that stirred the paint once manufactured here remained, giving the place a decidedly industrial look. As a dog training school in downtown Chicago, it was perfect. A massive copper furnace huffed and boomed to life to warm us in the frigid winter, but it had likely been on duty since the Eisenhower administration and I gave it a respectful distance, opting for state-of-the-art fire and burglar alarms to protect my furry charges.
I was training a boisterous lab puppy one cool spring day when the piercing WHOOOP, WHOOOP, WHOOOP of the fire alarm went off. I looked around for flames, ninjas, smoke, or other interlopers but found no trouble. The phone call to the service was made, but I was told the firemen were on their way.
Read the entire article in the Summer 2012 issue