There’s a dirty trick that mom played on me when I was a wee pup. She airlifted my small, furry frame right in to the most horrifying place on earth: the evil bathtub. Horrors! And to make matters worse, there was a sea monster in there, too! Its face was this fizzing nozzle that sprayed water all over me…and it wasn’t by accident, either. Nope. Mom took aim, dousing me with one long spray of water and mistook my stunned reaction to this hideous ritual as somehow being enjoyable!
Without hesitation, I broke free and scampered to the edge of the tub in search of freedom. With all my puppy might, I tried to pull myself up out of that evil tub away from that sea monster; I even folded back my ears to maximize my aerodynamic exit. But, somehow mommy’s arm came out of nowhere and transported me right back in the middle of the torture chamber. What’s worse is I was then soaked from nose to nub with this icky watery lather.
Now, I will confess that at this point, there was a full body massage, which was kinda nice. It would have been greatly improved, though without the unnecessary inclusion of all that water afterwards. But, soon I was swooped from the tub to a big towel in daddy’s arms; safe at last.
The good news was that I had managed to make it through that evil bathtub monster experience in tact (believe me, I checked!). But, the bad news was this was only the first of many recurring evil bath tub events to come.
Let’s be reasonable. I am a dog. Does mommy have any clue how long it takes me to smell like a dog? The process, I have found, involves searching out just the right combination of wet grass, mud, and any assortment of eau de decay fragrances just waiting to be frolicked in to achieve this feat. And all it takes is one bath and I have to start all over again…trying to smell like a dog.
It’s just not right.
Without hesitation, I broke free and scampered to the edge of the tub in search of freedom. With all my puppy might, I tried to pull myself up out of that evil tub away from that sea monster; I even folded back my ears to maximize my aerodynamic exit. But, somehow mommy’s arm came out of nowhere and transported me right back in the middle of the torture chamber. What’s worse is I was then soaked from nose to nub with this icky watery lather.
Now, I will confess that at this point, there was a full body massage, which was kinda nice. It would have been greatly improved, though without the unnecessary inclusion of all that water afterwards. But, soon I was swooped from the tub to a big towel in daddy’s arms; safe at last.
The good news was that I had managed to make it through that evil bathtub monster experience in tact (believe me, I checked!). But, the bad news was this was only the first of many recurring evil bath tub events to come.
Let’s be reasonable. I am a dog. Does mommy have any clue how long it takes me to smell like a dog? The process, I have found, involves searching out just the right combination of wet grass, mud, and any assortment of eau de decay fragrances just waiting to be frolicked in to achieve this feat. And all it takes is one bath and I have to start all over again…trying to smell like a dog.
It’s just not right.
