Spa Day

To me, Spa Day sounds like a pedicure, manicure, facial and a massage. Okay, so I've never really enjoyed the "works" like that, but some day I will.

Today's Spa Day, was three less than willing pointers in a back yard hose down. The plan was to shampoo Prince Kobe and that I did. He was stoic as always when he gets the Chinese water torture. After him, I thought, heck, why not Hank? My hands and feet are wet, one more is not a big deal.

Hank ran his happy self right over to me when I called him. So, for the record, the dogs don't scream when the cold water hits them like I would have. I wasn't taking a chance by letting go of his collar either. Scrubbed him down, rinsed him off, and sent him scampering to get the clean off. Next, victim, errrr, volunteer - Oh Mickey!

Mick wasn't born yesterday. He knew what was next. He knew why I was calling him, and he knew why he didn't want to come. But, with some sweet talking he timidly came over. And yes, he too was subjected to the water torture. Tic Tac Toe three clean pointers in a row. Wet dog smell times three!!

Perhaps, in their doggy brains, linking spa day to baths is a vast misnomer. Spa day to them would be eating from the garbage can, rolling in some stinkin poo, and licking their private parts because they can. If this is the case, I hope they accept my apology for mistreating them this way.

As soon as the odor d'wet dog dissipates, I'll be glad I bathed them.