The cat snorted. Future tense?
I sighed. I did not say you’re going to be DAFT, I said. You’re going in the bath.
Cat, rolling her eyes: How can you become something you already are?
Dog (confused by cat): but… but.. I’m not IN the bath
Cat: Case in point.
Me: Knock it off. Puppy, honey, you stink. That outing yesterday to the nature reserve was dusty and we still haven’t been able to remove all the grease Granny spilled on you last week.
Dog: when my ass smelled like bacon? That was AWESOME! (Sad) The smell faded. And you tried to wash it off. And I couldn’t bend enough to lick it. (Happy again) but I smelled AMAZING!
Cat: Infidel. Civilized animals clean themselves. You have to stand in the shower while they hose you off.
Dog: with warm water! And bubbles! You use… you use… what do you use?
Cat (haughtily): Organically manufactured dissolving agents which evaporate.
Dog: it’s made from organs? Mine is oatmeal and kiwi
Me: That would be spit. Which I suppose is organic.
Dog: Spit is made from organs? How’s that work?
Cat (sighing): Back to the “daft” designation.
I decided to take her for a walk before we did the shower. She managed to twist the leash so it hooked under the treat bag, pulled up and sprayed everywhere. AARGH! All over the sidewalk…
Her eyes bulged. Holy crap! That’s like… dinner sprayed over the path!
Me: Leave it! Leave it!
Dog, nose on the ground as she scooped up treats with her tongue: ouf off yourph mind you fink I stop now…
Me, dragging her away: LEAVE IT!
There was no way I could pick up all the treats and control her, so neighbors forgive me, I left them. May some less fortunate, less rigidly trained pup discover manna from heaven.
As we went on, I spotted a hawk on the top of a lamppost. I think it’s the one that was in our garden a couple weeks ago – we were worried about the cat, but when the dog joyfully bounded out there with us, it took off.
Instead, this time, the puppy wasn’t so keen. Especially when a crow started to get into it with the hawk (for those not in the know, the hawks go after the baby crows, so the crows gang up on the hawks to harass them.) I was fascinated (I cheer on the crows) but Miss M was having none of it. So off we went.
Back at home, she went in the bath… or more accurately, the shower. When we had the master bath, which is quite small, remodeled, we added a seat large enough for a medium sized dog to stand and get washed.
Sadly, Miss M is now 40lbs so it’s getting tighter every time.
Drying this girl is also a challenge. Multiple towels and she’s no longer freaked out by the hair dryer (but only on low… evidently when on high, there’s a chance the devil himself might emerge…)
For having short hair, she sure soaks up the water. Given she IS a water dog, I woulda thought she’d be able to shake and be good.