If Sam had her say, she’d take her baths in a spot like this one. I just know her type.
Instead, in between formal groomings, Sam is bathed at the local pet store where there is a pubic bathing room for dogs. It costs a few bucks but it’s worth it. Big stalls, plenty of shampoo, long hoses, lots of towels, even blow driers. And in between the groomings and the pet shop, Sam takes her washings in the spare room, basement bathroom at our home. And she takes them with me. There is little that is glamorous.
Ever shower with your dog? It may sound weird or strangely creepy. It’s not. It’s practical. If I’m going to properly bathe a thirty-five pound, squirmy and reluctant animal who is not fond of being wet, I’m going to get soaked myself. So, why not get soaked together. Again, there is nothing glamorous about any of this.
It’s always a bit of a tussle to angle her in the shower stall. Sam knows it’s bath time and does her best to find an escape route. But once inside, she calms. The warm water cascading down somehow soothes. And this is where she shows off her love of being spoiled, accepting my soapy, massaging hands. The anticipatory fears are gone and she takes on the role of pampered princess. It’s a transformation every time. And I’m sure through it all, she’s dreaming of a high–end spa somewhere.
I dry off and dry her off. And now, she rests. It’s a lot of work to be clean, and maybe it is just a little glamorous.
Sam photo by David W. Berner