Last week, my sisters decided that I smelled like a dog - well, what should a dog smell like, a pizza? - and so I needed to go have a visit to the beauty parlor. Naturally, the brothers objected to this parlance, and concluded I should at least be able to call it what they did when they were little - a "beauty saloon".
But first, I walked down to Main Street, to stop by the building with the old barber pole on the front.
turns out it's now just a house.
So Ryan and the girls took me to the place "where the pets go." They took me from my people, into a dungeon, and tried to stuff me in a too-small cage to be sure I could get in there. They said it was a blow-dryer, but it looked like a cage to me. I howled. Ryan howled, "You're hurting my dog!!!" So they brought me home.
Then they took me to the back yard and played "beauty saloon," just like the girls did when they were little. I'll tell you what, that VO-5 volumizing shampoo smells mighty nice, and makes even us short haired dudes look pretty fluffy. And I am thankful to Momma that she respected my privacy, and didn't take pictures of me bathing. That would be embarrassing. I have, however, enjoyed several good brushings after my shampooing.
But for a while, I'm hiding next to Mark. HE won't be a traitor and let them try to wash me again real soon.
Happy Thorsday, everyone!