There is one word we have to spell out for our dogs. B-A-T-H. Bath time around here is a 3 ring circus, complete with jugglers, stampedes, and 2 (Beagle) clowns. I'd be fine with skipping the whole fiasco but they are inside dogs, hound dogs, which means they develop "houndy" odors. Pee-ewww.
Today was supposed to be bath day but I woke up with an achy back. I wasn't exactly at the top of my game. My nose was saying "wash dogs now!" but the rest of my body was screaming "surely tomorrow will be better" (to an empty room because the dogs had escaped out the pet door before I could even start the chase.)
So tomorrow I will put on some old duds, fill up a tub, chase down some dogs and scrub-a-dub some stink away.
Meanwhile, the dogs have returned to their soft beds, smirking at me. They know I've retreated. The battle has been postponed.
