Monday, July 20, 2009
Although some dogs can be really quite smelly, ours is - as far as dogs go - a fairly nice-smelling sort. Consequently, she gets bathed about as often as a woman in the Middle Ages would, and trust that this is fine by her and me both. I derive no great joy from wrestling a 50 pound wet, squirmy dog back into my bathtub, and she is of the opinion that being sprayed with water is THE most terrifying thing on the planet. And so it had been about two years since her last bath - long enough for her to start assuming she'll never have to have another one, but not so long ago that she forgot how awful they were. Hence her habit of staring at me awestruck whenever I take a bath, as if to say, "You mean to tell me you're doing this WILLINGLY? Are you OUT OF YOUR EVERLOVING MIND, LADY-WHO-FEEDS-ME-FROM-THE-TABLE?!?!"

BUT, today doggie decided to go rolling around in her own excrement. SO, today doggie got a rare bath:

She was mad at me for a spell.
However, she soon forgot she was supposed to be upset. Dogs are nice that way.



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