Thursday, May 5, 2011

The Way It Is: Splish, Splash we gave him a bath

Daily Forum Column for 5-5-11

We’d put it off long enough. Not only did he itch constantly, but he was starting to smell well, like a dog.

It was time for King Ace's royal bathing.

As the 90-pound lug sunbathed, spread eagle, in the sunlight that entered the living room, he was completely oblivious as to what was about to take place.

After tracking down our rain gear, my galoshes, a beach towel and two kinds of soap it was time for the inevitable.

"Ace, let's go outside," my other half chirped with his best excited voice.

Expecting a walk in the park or a chance to frolic in the yard, Ace nearly knocked me down as he barreled out to the garage.

Greeted with the sight of a garden hose and our rain gear, he was left a bit disappointed and so it was off to the races.

My male counterpart took off to the right while l made a mad dash past the garden shed. Stumbling over Stella the Shih-Tzu, who was unaware of the circumstances but found the game of chase quite fun, I narrowly missed the fresh pile of dog crap.

Around the tree, through my flower garden, into the neighbors' yard and back around for more went Ace.

Once my dog catching assistant had a firm hold on one very unhappy pooch, I started the hose.

Luckily the weather allowed us to complete this task — which had been performed indoors all winter — outside.

Figuring the best bet not to get wet would be controlling the hose, I left the scrubbing, sudsing and all that was involved with keeping a wet, miniature horse in place to my assistant.

As he removed his hand to reach for the soap, it was clear that a heavy duty, garbage bag may have been a better choice for rain gear. Ace shook, and enough water to flood Mozingo Lake sailed through the air.

Left momentarily stunned, Ace took advantage of a few seconds to flee. Luckily for us, he came equipped with a built in handle.

"Gotcha!" I hollered.

Snatching him back to the outdoor bathtub by a hind leg and his tail, we continued scrubbing.

Ending up across the yard from where our adventure began, with two sopping wet tennis shoes and a new swimming pool by way of a runaway garden hose, he got a good rubbing with the beach towel before we turned him loose.

Head up, hind down, he raced to the front of the house, back to the back yard, around the shed and under the patio furniture — knocking over a lounge chair.

Before the full sentence could even leave my mouth...
Ace, you need to go inside before you get..."

He was rolling, head first, down the grassy hill, kicking up chunks of grass and dried leaves as he went.

Rolling, snorting, rubbing and rooting across the yard, his wet fur acting as a sponge, he had managed to collect a coat full of grass clippings within seconds.

Realizing the lasers of death coming from my eyeballs didn't mean I wanted to play too, he plopped down as if nothing had happened.

The tips of his tucked ears that flapped in the breeze in conjunction with the sappy look on his face said "I didn't see anything, did you?"

Brushing him off and shooing him back indoors, our focus turned to the little one cowering under the picnic table.

"Bath time, Stella."


Jim Sissel said...

Very good. For those of us Grnadpawho "get" to bath their canine friends, we totally follow the story with sympathy.


Jim Sissel said...

Erase the "Grnadpa" and the message is much more clear.

Allyson said...

Someone has to speak for the KING.... He is the best dog ever and you are going to be taking him to a doggie psycho if you dont quit picking on him. Although he does make good reading. Loved the article.