A Ruined Day

I got a bath yesterday. I hate baths. I work long and hard at becoming stinky and while I do appreciate the attention I get when I am clean (apparently my movie star good looks truly shine through when I’m not caked in dirt) I just don’t feel (or smell for that matter) like myself when I am. I think, however, that the most disturbing part of getting a bath is not the “clean” smell that clings to my fur or even the funny looks I get from the other dogs in the neighborhood. No, it is actually the full out betrayal from my family that bath time brings. Let me explain.

Yesterday morning I was sprawled out in the hallway watching Ma as she cleaned the window in the back room. Okay, fine, I was watching Ma in hopes that she’d absentmindedly lay down the paper towel roll she was using and I could swoop in, grab it, and rip it to shreds (hey, we all need a hobby!). Anyway, there I was minding my own business when Pa walked by and told Sister that it “was time.” I cocked my head in Pa’s direction and stared up at him with mournful eyes; experience has taught me that such statements never bode well for the dog.

Before I could fully comprehend what was happening, my ears were cleaned, my everyday collar was exchanged for my choke collar, and I found myself standing outside (outside! I didn’t even get to go to the relative privacy the doggy spa) in the driveway with Pa holding my leash, Sister armed with the hose and a bottle of shampoo, and Ma hiding in the house pretending that she didn’t know what was happening to me. With family like them, who needs enemies, right? While cold water started pouring down my head, I came to the realization that my day was official ruined.

I put up with the bath. I wasn’t happy about it, but I put up with Pa and Sister dousing me with cold water and scrubbing me with stinky (and not in a good way) smelling shampoo. I made sure, however, to show my displeasure once they were finished. Their eardrums will never be the same.