SPLISH

SPLISH, SPLASH, I WAS GIVING THE DOG A BATH

So the other day I was watching the Westminster Dog Show. I watched as the most majestic and tempered dogs in the world paraded in front of a packed stadium, performing in lock-step unison with their owners.

As I sat glued to my television, a seemingly endless stream of the most phenomenal canines before me, I thought, "Man, my dogs stink."

Now before you jump on me, I don’t mean that in the "My dogs stink because they wouldn’t allow some judge to grope them that like some $5,000 Bichons Frises." I mean that in the literal sense. My dogs really stunk. They were unpleasing to the senses. It’s like they were competing in the Rolling in Deer Carcass portion of the show.

Inspired by my AKC friends, I decided it was time for my dogs to clean up their acts. Or, at the very least, have some of their substantial funk removed.

First up was Montgomery, my faithful purebred mutt. Montgomery would be a perfect candidate for prisoner of war, as regardless of the situation, he will stand there stoically, a hint of discomfort on his face, but always there to the miserable end.

And if you think I’m taking that analogy a little far, you should see the show he puts on when he hears the bath water running. First, he becomes immobile. His legs no longer work, so I have to haul his big, limp body to the tub. Second, he refuses to look me in the eye. It’s like his final show of defiance. He stares fixated away from me, making a point of never seeing the joy in his tormenter’s eyes. I wish he would look at me just once, so he would realize that this ain’t a walk in the park for me either.

Once I plop Montgomery into the bath, he actually makes it pretty easy on me. He just stands there, licking the faucet, which seems kinda gross to me, but I guess you can add that to a long list of gross things dogs lick. Even at the conclusion of the bath, Montgomery is obedient and calm. He stands there and waits while I towel him off. I think he waits so patiently because he knows the big reward is only moments away.

Yes, in time, the door will open, and – oh, any dogs out there who are reading this know what’s coming! – that’s right! It’s time to run and wipe our wet bodies on everything in the house! Beds! Couches! Children in playswings! Yes, it is time to share the most wonderful marking scent in the world – wet dog! It’s man’s best friend’s way of saying, "If I’m smelling like wet dog, we’re ALL smelling wet dog."

After Montgomery finished his victory/revenge lap, it was time for Maggie. Maggie has all the patience and calmness of Andy Dick. She knows what’s going on, and she will fight it to the bitter end. For those of you who think Bassets are slow, lethargic beasts, I say to you, "HA!" Maggie has more energy than most dogs I know, and she likes to tap into the extra resources during bath time.

The first thing that Maggie does is to throw standard bath rules out of the window. I am fairly sure that, at some point in time, there was some Man-Dog Geneva Convention type thing where rules were agreed up. Among those man agreed that if you make the dog fetch the slippers, they will come to you partially digested. Dogs agreed not to shake until after that bath.

Maggie does not think that rule should apply to her. She is a walking war crime when it comes to bathtime. Put her in the tub – shake, shake, shake. Pour some water on her back – shake, shake, shake. Turn around for a split second – climb onto the hamper so you can get more coverage area and shake, shake, shake.

Eventually, Maggie and I are both completely drenched, and she has somewhat been bathed. It was like trying to wash a moving car during a hurricane, so I can’t be sure I completely cleansed her.

After drying her off, she followed after Montgomery, adding double wet dog smell to everything. Maggie is a lot shorter than Montgomery, so she has the added advantage of being able to get under coffee tables. That’s very important when you are trying to heap on revenge to the fullest. Coverage is essential.

But at least the dogs no longer stink. Or, rather, no longer stink with the same odor as before. Now it’s that musty wet dog smell which is not much better, but it does send out the "Hey, I’m Trying" message to anyone who visits your home. Personally, I think it’s time we revisit the man-dog convention completely. To any dogs that are reading: how about this: we’ll agree to stop bathing you if you’ll agree to stop rolling in stuff. We’ll discuss it at the summit.