Eau de Whisper

The First Snow

Yesterday's rainy, snowy, sleety, weather--it is, after all, December--resulted in the normal red mud of North Carolina winters. It takes more than that, though, to make Mike miss a morning walk with the dogs. Slough that I am, I kept my place on the couch as they headed out.

Half an hour, or so, later, I heard the doggy door BLAM open and Whisper flew in, his ever shadow River close behind, both of them grinning, tails wagging, WET dogs, so happy with themselves and their walks.

The two of them do, sometimes, run back early from Mike and Jenni to share their fun with me. Though Jenni does love me, does come for a gentle, soft rub more often than normal, she truly is Mike's dog. Whisper & River, though, both came by my choice, and both always know my whereabouts.....I squealed at the cold, wet drops flying off their coats slapping my skin, Whisper's beautiful white coat dappled brown from pond scrum or forest dirt or some such. They turned away happily and fell to the floor, still happy, such fun that morning walk!

All this took about, oh, seven seconds.....and, then, wafting from, ummmmm, let's see, yes, Whisper came an odor.....oh, yeah, no doubting that smell......a very strident, emanating, STRONG eau de deceased.

Usually it's my sweet Jenni who finds something for rolling in. Not this time. Maybe he didn't MEAN to roll in it....but, wow..... As the warm house air attached itself to that beautiful white (now red-dappled) ruff, particles of dead something wafted up more and more.....and I found myself quickly OFF the couch and down the hall to the bath tub, Whisper happily following me.

Oh yeah. Uh huh.

I gathered every towel I could find, he trotted behind.

I took some belongings I had in the bathroom OUT so as to escape the waterfall to come. Whisper followed me.

"Whisper! Stop following me!" I scolded, seeing little wet pawprints in the carpet. His tail wagged harder.

I got a metal pan to pour water over him. And, finally, as I made final preparations, just shoved him in the bathroom and shut the door. Affronted doesn't begin to describe the look on his face.

Myself? I finally gathered my nerve and went in.

We have a "jacuzzi tub," which is nice when you want to sit in and have water massage your back, but the tub is very tall. It's not a big round one, takes the normal width of a regular tub, so, tall. When I get in, I actually have to use a stool. So, try to lift a 50-pound dog, shocked at the treatment his mom suddenly exhibited, over the side of a high tub (which is, nonetheless, on the floor, so lifting with your back at a weird angle), the tub door slid to the side, leaving about a three-foot opening, and said affronted dog (wrapped in a towel, because, really, he was RIPE) splaying all four legs out as far as possible.

I am still pretty strong (I lift saddles and such at the barn, of course, wrestle horses on occasion), but I admit the first try failed. You might be wondering at this point, "Where was Mike?"

With One Towel Behind!

That is a very good question.

Again, I wrapped a towel around my struggling, worried dog (who never once tried to hurt me, let it be known), hefted him up, and this time plopped him in the tub. He shivered, his nerves just getting the better of him, but I got my pan, between that and running water wet him down, lathered him as much and as fast as I could (there was also a towel in the bottom of the tub for him to stand on) and washed the boy up.

At which point Mike arrived. "Did he get in something that smelled bad?"

Posing With River

I refrained from saying, "No, I just thought it would be fun to either sign up for mud wrestling or give Whisper a bath," and said, "Yes." All congratulations lack of sarcasm are appreciated.

He--and this is why God made husbands--removed Whisper when we had him all clean and rinsed a couple minutes later, and Whisper suddenly morphed into the happy, proud, GOOD-SMELLING dog he usually is--although, much cleaner.

I cleaned the tub, gathered all but a couple towels that we own, and they now grace the washing machine, then hopped in the cleaned tub myself. Even the towel on which he stood while taking the bath smelled bad...... ugh.

But, gee, he is one beautiful dog......

My Beautiful Boy