Dog Daze

I bathed Dogger last night. I wasn’t going to, it was late, I had been working on Modeans thing, and the whole dog bath rigmarole is kind of involved and messy and not something I want to face right before bed. But I did it anyway. It was Monday and that is Doggers bath day. I am a prisoner of my routine and if I don’t do it when I’m “supposed” to do it, what ever “it” is may not get done.

She wasn’t really all that dirty, I told myself as I was sitting there not getting it done. The nice neighbor commented on her high degree of doggy hygiene and the little kids always talk about how fluffy she is. She doesn’t smell doggy. I really, really, really didn’t want to start with the bath. It’s not the dog bath it’s the resultant a wet towels and wet floors and just all the wet dogness that comes as a result of bathing a large dog. A wet dog still smells like wet dog even when the wet dog smells like Johnson’s Baby Shampoo, even with the blow dryer, eu de wet dog remains eu de wet dog. Yuck.

And once Dogger is clean I have to deal with her bedding. I don’t put my newly clean dog back in to her old, dirty bedding - that has to be bathed as well. Between the dog bath and the laundry It’s becomes a huge production and by the time I’m finished about all I can deal with is the Monday night CBS line up. It helps if I’m tired but not too tired to maintain the intentional suspension of disbelieve necessary to watch the CBS Monday Night line up – I have to be able to both not nit pick on how they walk away from explosions but also not fall asleep in the middle. It can be a juggling act.

Okay. Tangent over. After I put Dogger in her bed and changed my clothes I settled in to watch my shows. Basketball! CSI-Miami wasn’t even on! Damn College Basketball to hell! I don’t watch Basketball. Dissed by CBS, I ended up watching American Chopper. Those people need tee shirts that say “Its Not Brain Surgery, its just Motorcycle fabrication!” They take themselves very seriously. They also spend a lot of time shouting. Over the shouting I could hear Dogger in her crate. She was supposed to be sleeping. She was playing with her bed. I went in there and she had bunched her bedding up in a pile and was staring at it.

Me – What?

Her – It sounds funny.

Me – What do you mean it “sounds funny”?

Her – It makes a sound.

Me – That’s the lining of the sleeping bag, its slidy, okay? Stop messing with it.

Her – But it makes sounds!

Me – The top part doesn’t. The top part is all soft and fuzzy and the other blanket is fuzzy too.

Her – Slidey Noise!

Me – If you would just stop doing whatever it is you’re doing to make it make the slidey noise, It would stop bothering you. Go to sleep.

Her – (whimpering) It’s all bunchy…

Me – Get Out.

I unbunched the bedding and tried to arrange the sleeping bag to be less “slidey” and spread out the fuzzy blanket a little more.

See, I bought that bedding. I like that bedding. It’s pink, it says princess on it. Do you know how hard it is to be pink, frilly bedding for a large dog? They don’t make pink frilly beds for big dogs. Big dogs are supposed to be all butch and into dark flannels and heavy canvases. I had to really search to find something pink and frilly yet dog friendly enough to serve as bedding for her. If I’m going to live with her genormous crate in my house, its going to be attractive. I know she really has to live with it, but I am higher on the food chain then she is as well as being the Alpha in this relationship. If I want her to sleep on really cute albeit slidey bedding, then damn it she will.