Saturday, November 25, 2017

It wasn't his intention to hang around to see what comes next. He knew what was in store. He'd followed me upstairs as usual, and so did his sister. As usual. Everything seemed normal up until the point where I changed into a familiar outfit used only for one thing, and then hauled the vacuum cleaner downstairs. That's when he made himself scarce.

I hadn't intended when I planned what to do this morning, to groom them. But they looked a little wild and dishevelled, which is in fact their normal state of appearance.  Aside from that it was time for them to be bathed. It's been too long between baths for the two little imps. The bathing part doesn't bother Jackie, it's the hair-snipping that he finds so damnably aggravating.

I thought that since we'd be bathing them I might just as well give them haircuts too. Yesterday during our ravine walk they got really dirty. The day before it had been cold, the ground was frozen and the trails icy. But yesterday saw a new front enter the atmosphere and it was much milder albeit windy. The trails that had been so treacherous the days previous were now free of ice and had become muck-paths. And when we got home it took some time before we were satisfied our two puppies had been sufficiently cleansed of wet clay, sand and bits of woody detritus.

It was definitely bath time, I'd put it off for long enough. First, the adventure of haircuts, one after the other, the assembling of brushes, various-sized scissors, bag, vacuum, and patience. Jilly  is fairly good about girding herself to be insulted and assaulted though she doesn't enjoy the process. She's amenable to good behaviour on this distinct kind of occasion. And while I cut her hair Jackie was nowhere to be seen; still, quiet, hoping I'd forget about him.

But his turn came about and before I was completely finished with Jillie, there he was, gritting his teeth and offering himself. And so, I set about performing the ritual on his haircoat that I had just completed on his sister's. He, usually anxious to please, was not resigned to doing so on this occasion. But eventually the evil deed was done, and both scampered about happily, relieved to have survived.

And then Jackie saw me assembling their towels, go upstairs and before I even entered the bathroom to begin filling the tub, he was wild with excitement, yipping and yowling. This time he was first in the tub. Although he loves the warm bathtub water and the soft-soap doggy scrub, he is quiet, compliant and solemn about it all. Deed completed, I hand him over to my husband who has the time-consuming chore of drying-off, and it seems to take forever, and countless towels, small as those two little pups are.
Jillie

Jilly hides this time, then rolls over on her back submissively for a tummy-rub before I haul her off to the bathroom. As soon as Jackie sees me carrying Jillie while he's still being dried off, he begins to sorrow and weep and heart-breaking pleas are emitted from his little mouth. Jealous? Who knows! This commotion continues all the while I'm bathing his sister, and he leaps continually to the side of the bathtub as though he means to join her there, until he's removed from the room.

When they're finally both dried, they go berserk, leaping onto one another, ripping through the house, boxing, wrestling, with Jackie audibly articulating his satisfaction that they are both free of the inconvenience of too much attention and care on our part.  Our strange and mysterious assaults on their dignity will never cease being a source of puzzlement to them. 

Jackie
                                                                                                              

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