Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Doggie Bidet

The only place Rocco wants to see water is in his water bowl.
He keeps his distance from the spool, even when we’re all in it having fun.
He won’t go near the hose, even on the hottest of days in Fairfield.
The sprinklers are a nuisance when he has to go potty.
And let’s not even talk about rainy season.

But more than anything else water-related, he despises baths. And it does not matter who is giving it—a pretty young groomer at a fancy dog salon, the kind grandmotherly woman at the quaint little boutique wash, the ‘professional’ canine cosmetologist with the Goth make-up and pierced tongue at Petco, or his momma and daddy in the security of his own home. He always has the same reaction –uncontrollable shaking and a look of terror on his face.

Recently, however, Rocco has had the occasion to become acquainted with the concept of a ‘doggie bidet’. It seems his long hair has been getting in the way of a ‘clean’ potty break and doggy wipes just can't do a proper job. So after snapping the rubber gloves on, daddy has carried him upstairs to the torturous laundry room sink.

Like Aunt Jackie, I (Brown) need to know what’s going on at all times. So naturally I have to follow them up the stairs, but am careful to stop & watch from the doorway.

Rather than a full bath, the affected area only required the spray hose. The nice warm temperature and a gentle cascade of water made for a pleasant experience. And I (Rocco) walked away feeling clean and rather refreshed.

I (Rocco) really must descend from European royalty.

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