Tuesday, October 23, 2007

^$&#*% Dog...

Yesterday was bright and sunny. Right after lunch, I let himself out in the backyard to do his thang, and he wanted to stay out. Okay. I brought kidlet back in the house and let him stay out.

He came back in smelling not so fine...his neck was black on both sides from something he'd rolled in...most likely racoon poo. Bathtime! He needed a bath this month anyway, so it was only an hour I hadn't wanted to spend washing him. The funny part is that he does not roll in stuff. He's done this ONCE in the three years we've had him, and that was six months ago. Same stuff.

Now, our dog is not small. He weighs 100 pounds and his head reaches my hips. To bathe him, I need to strip naked and climb into the tub/shower with him. Thankfully, he stands still for this and actually enjoys the soapy massage.

I got him all clean, and mostly dry. Since he's a golden retriever, his coat is built for water, and he dries pretty fast. Still, he was a bit damp when he joined kidlet and I in the sunny front yard for some raking of oak leaves and slogging-out of rain gutters. Shadow rolled in the grass and got all warm and dry. I didn't notice when he wandered off, but he usually takes a trip around the empty, forested lot next to us.

I called for him. No answer. I called again, and heard a crashing in the bushes. He came trotting around the corner of the fence, dragging twigs and leaves--and decorated all about the neck with...more racoon poo.

Get in the house. Bad dog. Back to the shower for us. Re-wash neck portion of dog. Grumble a lot.

Stupid dog.