I woke up today feeling as though my eyes had been scrubbed with sandpaper and one nostril had been used as storage for fifty pounds of bromide while I slept. It's been warm and spring-like in Houston this past week, which is all it takes around here for things to start blooming and allergens to be everywhere. I recently vacuumed and dusted, so I blamed the dogs for how I felt today. They haven't had a bath in quite a while, so they're nothing but dander machines. Walking, jumping, playing, rolling, drooling, dander factories.
Yes, Rex has issues, as well as a need to challenge my authority. You'd think he'd be the worst dog to bathe. On the contrary, he's the easiest. He loves the attention and just stands in the tub like a diva at the spa. So I saved him for last. I bathed Pixie second, because I knew she'd be trouble. Sure enough, the second I turned on the water she climbed my torso and tried to masquerade as a scarf. "Oh! Oh! Help! Nobody here but us scarves!" So I put on my swimming trunks and led her outside to the hose. She didn't like it much better, but at least she kept four paws on the ground and let me get it over with.
I didn't know how Penny would react, so she got the first bath. Penny is pretty much fearful of everything, so I knew I'd have to calmly talk her through it and reassure her. Her reaction was to freeze in place at the opposite end of the bathtub from the faucet, in an ignore it and it will all go away sort of response, which was perfect for my purposes. I kept telling her how great she was doing, and how clean and pretty she would be afterward. She seemed to like the attention. That is, until I poured water over her head to rinse away the shampoo on her head. She panicked and pooped, and that was the end of bath time for Penny.