Demeaning Ablutions



The indignity!



I should have seen it coming.  I was sitting by 'Him Indoors' as he was preparing lunch, hoping to get a bit of cheese, when he muttered something about 'wiffy' and 'dog'.  I didn't pay much attention to be honest, but then 'Her Indoors' disappeared off to the garage and came back with the old baby bath.  Junior 'Her' was in on it too, demurely smiling whilst furtively secreting the doggy shampoo (I have a preference for Tea Tree Oil myself) and an old towel up in the bathroom.  You can't trust anyone.  The next thing I knew, I was plucked from my warm, cosy bed and plunged into a couple of inches of tepid bath water.  Not fun.  I'm a terrier, I don't do water.  Still, I tried my best.  I looked all woebegone and shivered pathetically.  They fussed; I foamed.  I tried to time my shaking for maximum effect, but 'Them Indoors' were ready with a pink bath towel.  I have to say I quite like the drying bit, although I don't think pink is quite the right colour.  Anyway, I now look and smell like a big girl's blouse.  I've tried licking but that doesn't really help and it's too cold for me to go outside and roll in something, so I'm stuck with this funny smell that follows me round everywhere.  The next thing will be de-fleaing and a worming tablet.  She thinks I don't notice, her hiding it in my food, but I can't be bothered to object.  It's vaguely edible and that's all that counts.



A pink towel - honestly!