Pages

02 June 2013

The trouble with dogs

A couple of days ago I was taking the dog for a long run because the weather had finally cleared. We had a good run and were nearly at the hospital to visit my sister, when I realised that I didn't have the dog's leash anymore. You think I would have learnt by now to keep a better hold on it, but I can't seem to keep from disappearing into daydreams while I bike along. Unfortunately, Cher is far from being a sniffer dog and is not help in finding things at all. So we turned around and started slowly making our way back while I looked out for the leash. Eventually I gave up and turned back toward the hospital, but my slow backtrack had given Cher time to get into mischief. I don't know where she went and what she did but she came back all covered in mud. Now, it's not unusual for her to run through the mud and splatter her legs and stomach, but this time she managed to get mud all over her back. We continued on our way and I found a half of a broken leash further down the track - that combined with the drawstring of my track-pants provided a makeshift leash, as I couldn't very well bring a dog into the hospital with no leash. Of course, with her being all muddy I probably should have left her outside, but I couldn't trust a drawstring to hold her so I had no choice. However, as we left the estuary and continued to the hospital, I noticed that we hadn't left the estuary smell behind. So I was not only bringing a dirty dog into the hospital; I was bringing a dirty, stinky dog into the hospital. Luckily, I didn't come across any nurses on my way in. Cher was tired and seemed to feel quite sorry for herself so she settled down quickly enough:


Now you might think that the trouble with dogs is the stinky mud they like to get into. But with Cher, that's just the beginning. This was only the second time that she has gotten so smelly, but there was just no avoiding the need to give her a proper wash. Bathtubs have gone out of fashion, which is not really ideal when you have a dog that needs a bath. So I began by tying her leash to the shower handrail, but she's not a stupid dog so she knew what was happening - as soon as I turned on the water she managed to slip out of her collar and go running through the house, spreading water and stink everywhere. To get her back into the bathroom I had to pick her up, then I had to keep a tight grip on the scruff of her neck to get her to stay still. I wet her down, lathered her and tried to scrub away all the dirt, all the while holding her in something like a headlock. As we finished with the lathering and starting rinsing, she went from struggling to struggling and whining. Only it wasn't normal, quiet whining. By the end of it I wouldn't have been surprised if somebody had called the police because it sounded like someone was being murdered. So I gave up and began to towel her down, and she continued to whine and cry. By the time it was all over, the bathroom was flooded, the living room carpet was all wet, she'd gone through about three towels, I was soaked and Cher was hiding under the washing rack. What a pathetic dog I have, she loves to swim but is terrified of having a shower. After all that drama we were both exhausted:


No comments:

Post a Comment