Oh, my GOD, said the cat. You STINK!

Dog: what you mean

Cat, recoiling: you smell horrendous. I mean, not that you don’t on an average day, but crap on a cracker, you are appalling.

Dog: I got chased by water it was grubby

Cat: Maaaan, I knew you were dim, but chased by WATER?! Maybe the walking can opener tried to shoot you with a hose?

Dog: Nope water was chasing them too but they didn’t care they let it catch them

Cat: You’ve lost your mind. I knew it was gonna happen.

Dog: the water was cold and the ground was weird and I could smell things living in it, things I’ve never ever seen

Cat, to me: Hey! She’s hallucinating over here!

Me: Actually, she’s correct. The beach. The waves do kinda chase you.

Cat: You’re sh!ttin’ me.

Avoiding the moving water. That’s her ear sticking out, not some weird snout.

Dog, excited: You come too next time, you can see! It’s so weird

Cat: When monkeys fly outta my butt.

Dog, seriously confused: Wait, monkeys come from your bottom? When does that happen? Can I watch

Me: knock it off. Puppy, no monkeys, you know only poop comes out of your bottom.

Cat: Not always. If she ate a bunch of fruit, it would be…

Me: ENOUGH.

The beach was fun, but I’m still unclear as to why this Labrador retriever is so not-okay with entering the water. Paddling pools, swimming pools, ocean – no thank you, she’s not going in – for which I was actually grateful, as her sandy paws and vague odor were bad enough in the car. If she’d been swimming, gah.

Puppy looking over fence at a sea lion
She had a hard time figuring out the sea lions. They bark kinda like dogs, smell like fish and look like giant slugs. She was fascinated.

Good thing she’s gonna (I hope!) be a working guide dog, not a working hunting dog.

<<BANG>> “Go get it, girl! Go get the bird!”

Dog: it’s in the swamp. You go get it, you shot it

Yeah. Not so much. She’d be career changed in a flash.

We got home, and straight into the shower. She tolerates it, but she’s not thrilled with bathing. Her update, which we get after each stay at the facility, has a choice about how “spa day” went:

____Doesn’t like it

____Bring on the bubbles!

They always tick the second box, but they need a “will do it but sulks about it” response. Then when she exits said shower, she’s a maniac. Worse yet, she refuses to shake in the shower – instead she waits until she’s out.

Me, with aching muscles as she’s no longer small enough to stand on the seat, so I had to bend to soap her: C’mon, puppy, shake!

Dog: No

Me: Please? Shakey shakey! While you’re still in the shower, k?

Dog: No

Me: Why?? Please shake…

Dog: No

Me: Just… shake. It’ll feel good.

Dog: No

Me: Fine, we’ll just use extra towels. Okay, out you go.

Beloved, standing outside the shower, clutching a stack of old towels: C’mon puppy, I got you. Let’s…

The mirror. My toothbrush. The cabinets, our bath towels, the walls, the ceiling and Beloved, covered in a mix of fine undercoat, wiry hairs and water when the air finally settled after the dog turned her coat inside out and upside down while still attached to her bod.

Next time, outside. She can deal with the cold water.

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