White Dog just didn't understand the point I was trying to make. I grew up in a family that always had dogs but like most kids having a dog meant my mom was responsible for all of the "dirty work" of owning a dog. I never thought about all of those occasions when being a dog guardian became exactly like being a human mom.
I was reminded today about how once squeamish me who flinched at stuff under my nails now calmly took in stride all manner of disgusting stuff on my hands or clothes. Beware, this is going to get a bit graphic...
Poor Taiko woke looking green and came over to bury his head on my lap for reassurance...then promptly threw up. He can have a tender tummy. As Steve helped me clean off my lap so I could stand, I cuddled our Boy and discovered his upset system had erupted at both ends. My arm was wet and stained from his streaky fur. "Run the bath," I told Steve. "Tai is need of a major cleanup." I took off my already soiled clothes and got out the big bath towels.
Taiko probably never experienced a bath before coming to White Dog Ranch and he is certainly NOT a fan so I was not surprised a while later when a totally soaking wet Steve delivered 30lbs. of thrashing dripping Eskie into my arms. I managed to calm him enough to blot him before he squirmed down and began his dance of shaking to dry his coat...and covering the entire bedroom in sprays of droplets. Steve and I mopped ourselves off and changed into dry clothes. "Now THAT'S the way to start the day!" White Dog sang out.
Oso's morning was a good one in terms of mobility but he just could not seem to coordinate the eating process without help. I held him in one arm and his food bowl in the other. Despite the towel "bib" we managed to completely smear the front my shirt and sleeve with his mash meal by the time he was done spilling and dropping and swinging his head to aid in chewing. But he ate his entire breakfast which made another change of clothes worthwhile.
Tonight Michael brought Oso in from a potty break as we waited for Steve's late return from school. My Little Man was fussing so I took him into my arms as I worked on the computer. Not ten minutes after his trip outside I felt my shirt grow first warm then become a spreading cold wetness. My shirt and lap were drenched...Oso's bladder had indeed been full. White Dog and Bella left my side in disgust. and even Oso wiggled to get down.
Steve walked in as I was stepping yet again out of my clothes. "Trying to see how many loadds of laundry you can generate in one day?" he teased. I looked up letting him know I didn't think he was funny. White Dog spoke before I could. "Just don't say ANYTHING about the way she smells," WD advised, "she seems to be VERY touchy about that subject!"
Some days I gain SUCH a new and greater respect for my own poor mom, mother of six girls, three or four dogs, endless hamsters, fish, and parakeets.