A Wet Dog Kind of Day
There’s just nothing quite like the smell of a wet dog. Even when it’s a clean, wet dog it’s an aroma that leaves something to be desired. They are hanging around in their kennels for just a little while longer, to get a bit drier before we send them back out to the back yard.
This is Nate. He’s part Black Lab, and part something unidentified that has an extremely thick coat and sheds a lot. A whole lot. He’s a good dog, but a big baby. We’ve had him since we first bought the house, so that makes him about 8 years old. He’s a humane society rescue.
This is Christie. She was rescued from a Wal Mart parking lot about three years ago, where some people were giving away a whole litter. I brought her home because she was so cute, and I was really afraid of what would happen to these puppies if the people couldn’t give them away. (I only brought home one, I have a huge soft spot for animals but a little bit of restraint also.) She’s half Australian Shepherd, half Walker Coon Hound, and the funniest little thing I’ve ever seen. She loves to play in water, so in the summer we keep a tub filled up out on the deck for her. If we don’t, she splashes all the water out of their drinking bowl.
So this lovely Saturday, just after noon, I’ve managed to check one thing off the list for the weekend: dog wash. Not for the laundry, the vacuuming, the grocery shopping, and baking a loaf or two of cinnamon bread in honor of Father’s Day. Have a great weekend!
