Sunday, November 22, 2009

That Was An Ordeal

Today we gave Sarah a bath. I don't even like uttering those words, because bathing Sarah is a form of rare and unusual punishment, that shouldn't be given to even the hardest of criminals. But Sarah was starting to get that lovely Goldie aroma, and when she would walk in front of a fan I would be knocked unconscious for a few minutes. Not even kidding. Yet when Adam turned to me last week and innocently asked, "Should we give Sarah a bath this weekend?" I noticeably cringed, and then thought about taking a second job so I could justify paying someone to bath her for me.

To even get Sarah into the bathroom, we have to leash her. Which is kind of sad, because she gets so excited thinking she is going to go on a walk. But the second we get into the hallway, the light in her brain goes off, and all movement halts. Thus begins the really tricky part of the operation. Sarah weighs 95 lbs. Yes, she is plump. But believe it or not, she was a lot plumper when she first entered the family's relocation program (we adopted her from my brother). The first words my brother said to us, when he handed her over was, "Her favourite food is McDonald's french fries." So she used to live on human food alone. But I don't really like to feed dogs table scraps, because I don't like a dog who begs, and I don't have enough money to feed them from the table. So Sarah promptly lost 20 lbs. (But yes Sarah does get the occasionally french fry).

So Sarah throws herself to the ground, and her legs go limp. So Adam has to scoot all 95 lbs of dead weight inch by inch into the bathroom. Once we get in the bathroom, Adam takes her front, and I take here back and we left her into our tall claw foot tub. I then have to get in the tub with her to wash her. For a few minutes, Sarah accepts her fate, and we hurriedly splash water on her and soap her up. But after a short amount of time, she starts forming her escape plan. We know how she acts, so we have learned to keep the door closed during the bath. Today she tried to escape, knocking over the trash can in the process. So now we are washing her, and then having to pull her backwards every few seconds to prevent her jumping out.

Once we are finally done, we let her jump out. She shakes a million times, and the bathroom is a wreck. We towel her off, let her leave, and she continues to shake in the living room. By this time, we are both soaking wet, and in need of showers ourselves. Sarah spends the rest of the day pretending like we don't exist and pouting. And I spend the rest of the day cleaning the bathroom and washing all the mats and towels.


  1. Oh bathtime, gotta love it, right? ha ha ha ha.

  2. I use to have a Westie which is much smaller than your dog. When he would shake after bath time the amount of water that came off of him was amazing. I can't even imagine the amount that would come off of your dog!! It must be like standing in a sprinkler on full blast!! :)


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