Wednesday, August 10, 2016

Bath is a 4-letter Word

It’s been 11 days since “the Incident”. I wasn’t allowed to talk about it before because 1) I couldn’t get the laptop away from Mom undetected and 2) my attorney, Frank T. Pug advised me not to say anything until the settlement came through.
Well, the settlement came through. I’ll be dining on the finest cuts of chicken and steak for the foreseeable future. And the choicest of vegetables. Basically, no more dog food… ever.
You’re probably wondering what Mom did that required Frank T. Pug to file a dogsuit on my behalf. (That’s like a lawsuit, but filed by dogs. It can happen, so you better make sure your dog well taken care of!)
It all started a week ago Friday night. The parents were out, again, leaving me home to babysit their stupid puppy because Bella refuses to babysit him. And there was a storm and the puppy is afraid of his own shadow (haha, see what I did there?).  So he’s crying “Where’s Mom? Is Mom coming back? I want Mom” and I’m like, shut up or I’ll make you watch that Puppy Monkey Baby video.
FINALLY, the parents come home and I want out. I’ve done my duty and now I demand a walk. With Dad this time. So Dad and I go out to the park. It’s after the rain, so the cool wet grass feels awesome on my paws. I’m exploring, checking out my usual spots, and of course I had to poop in the park. I walked down to my pond, to gather intel on troop movements from the Geese. I still report to Oscar as often as I can. He cuts me some slack because I’m an old geezer.
The pond was the problem. It was booby trapped by the Geese and I didn’t see it in time because of the cataracts. They flooded the pond! I was just supposed to go in up to my belly, but the water was too deep and I ended up doing an unplanned underwater investigation.
By the time Dad fished me out, I was completely soaked, filthy, and my paws had zero traction on the rocks. I fell a few times. It really hurt, too, but I’m tough, and this is war with the Geese! But Dad said it was time to get home so I could get cleaned up.
Silly me, I ASSUMED that by “cleaned up” he meant Mom would dry me off and I’d just rub up against the walls until the dirt came off. I should have known.
So Mom goes in the back and grabs a big towel. But instead of rubbing me dry, she PICKS ME UP AND PUTS ME IN A BATHTUB!  Oh, the indognity of it all! She actually had a nice warm shower for me, which kind of felt good on my sore back, but then she had to ruin it by putting dog shampoo ALL OVER MY FUR! And then she scrubbed me. TWICE! And of course, she had to rinse out my fur. I’m standing there, my back hurts, I’m WET and she’s still putting water on me?! At this rate the walls will fall apart before I can use them to dry off. And she’s still at it! Rinsing off the suds, she said… she even picked up my paws and washed and rinsed them. This was like, the longest year of my life! I’m a dog; 5 human minutes is a year in dog time. By the time Mom turned off the water and carried me out of the tub, I wanted revenge.
I went straight for my phone and called Frank. My own human WATERBOARDED me. I’m convinced she’s in league with the Geese. I spent days on the phone on conference calls with Frank, the ASPCA, my grandma, and Oscar for moral support. I even called my new pal Xambies (more on her later). She suggested I take a tramadol and relax. I don’t need to see imaginary penguins. I need justice! 
I just want you all to know about the horror that has been my life for the last week and a half. I was traumatized, and that’s just not good for an old dog in my condition. But Frank really came through for me this time. Mom settled out of dog-court and agreed to my meal requests rather than have me press charges of 3rd Degree Cruelty to Dingoes.
So now that it’s all resolved, I’m waiting for my agent to get back to me on the book deal.  
That’s all for now. Remember, Dogs Are Awesome and the word “bath” is profanity!