White Dog relaxed and air-dried post soothing bath. It is surprising how dirty furs get here during windy times when the dust just blows down the street, swirls in doorways, and creeps into every open window and crack of the house.
"Really, Zso, you should let Dad put you in the tub and shampoo you. It feels so good with the warm water running over you and the suds washing you fluffy clean."
Zsofia, who is not a fan of ANY grooming beyond Steve plucking clumps of blowing coat from her sides and back end, looked at White Dog with wide-eyes. "Did Dad say anything to you about giving me a bath?" she asked. She glanced around to find Steve, who was in the kitchen, to confirm that she was not his next "target."
"Don't worry, Zsofia," Steve called from where he was making the marinade for tonight's dinner chicken. "There are no more spa appointments scheduled for today. Not that you could not use a complete bath, ears, and trim.""
Zsofia released her ready-to-spring-into-action shoulder muscles.
No comments:
Post a Comment