She was a more than a little ripe. It’s so much more obvious that your canine is a little dirty mutt when she’s white… with long hair, added to boot. But regardless of dingy doggy hair, a smelly pup is not good — especially in a condo that spans less than 900 square feet (which is a mansion in Paris or Manhattan comparison, but teeny in Phoenix terms). So, in the guise of a “ride” I got her all excited to go to Wag ‘n Wash.
Note to self: think about dingy, stinky mutt (okay, not mutt) before you scrub your tub.
Another note to self: It’s really not fair to fool something that has the brain size of probably an apple (or peach?) by speaking in happy, high pitches, luring her with the leash….
How’s this for a bathroom break?
At this point she’s already calling shenanigans on me — she’s been through this before…. Look at those ears!
Clearly… CLEARLY not a happy Schnauzer!
She’s pulling out all the stops — even batting her bigger-than-Bambi eyes to try to win me over and release her from her version of doggie-hades (not a fan of water).
At this point I’m sure she wishes she had a different owner.
The blowdryer is absolute torture and my poor, innocent, little pup just trembles the whole time through. It’s like people who love steak and then finally watch the butchery of a cow for the first time…. Which I have seen. For some reason my father thought it would be a good idea to take me (at a whopping four years of age) to watch our landlord’s cow slaughter when we lived in Terceira, Portugal. I remember the cow’s eyes….
But now she’s SO CLEAN! And so pretty!! Who would guess this little knockout is 13 years “young” and suffers from diabetes, pancreatitis, and recurring bladder stones… look at the happy face!
Can you believe these are canine cookies? All natural! Made in their own doggie bakery!
Alas, due to said diabetes and bladder stones her diet is restricted such that Chloe no longer gets cookies, or “pup-cakes.”
But she did get to visit with Gigi, resident mini-schnauzer, who surveyed all the yappy-hour ongoings this afternoon.
Don’t feel too bad for Chloe — she got a new toy “Magda” (hey, I don’t name these things, it came on the tag) and she got a new bed for the kitchen that is made from 37 recycled soda bottles — how neat is that??!?
And through all this, in sight of the pug biting at the air from the blowdryer or the weimaraner that kept peering over the blowdryer cube, she yipped not a single arp. In the world of dominance, my dog is a total submissive. She’s an unapologetic omega… which almost makes this afternoon’s saga even more pathetic.