Washing the Dog
Usually washing Walter is a two-person job, but you know what they say: necessity is the mother of invention. The dog needed a bath, and I was home alone.
Walter follows me everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. I can't even turn around without tripping on him. Luckily, it hasn't resulted in any broken bones - his or mine.
So I took advantage of his devoted following of me, and I faked him out. I walked through the bathroom, and I quickly closed the bathroom door before he realized what I was doing. Then he followed me into the bathroom, and I closed the door to the bedroom. Clever me.
There's not too much room to maneuver in the bathroom. I just lifted his front paws into the bathtub, and the rest of him followed.
I always feel sorry for Walter when he's getting bathed because his back legs shake. I have the heater on, so he doesn't get too cold, and I sit on the bathtub edge with my feet in the tub, so I can tell what the temperature of the water is - not too hot or not too cold. But his back legs shake. Once the bath is over, and he jumps out of the tub, and I start rubbing him all over with the towel, he knows the hard part is over. He can't wait to shake and sprinkle water all over me and the rest of the bathroom. I get out the hair dryer, and he thinks this is the fun part. He makes the oddest sounds of joy, and they make me laugh, too.
He is so pretty when he's totally dry, and all of his fur is standing up over his body. I think he knows he's a handsome guy. The cats even treat him with respect - I guess because he doesn't smell so dogish....