Seriously, the dog cracks me up.

She's wacky. Looney. Out of her doggie mind.

Last weekend I gave her a long-overdue bath because if it's something that will make her smell, dry and cake over on fur, or destroy any number of fabrics in the house, Glin will roll around in it with crapulence. She hates getting a bath, all dogs do, and it's become an even more trying experience because she's getting bigger by the second. It used to require only one hand to keep her in the tub and now I need to call in the construction crew building the new condos down the street and ask if they wouldn't mind lending me a hand with Glin.

And even then I'm convinced she'd find a way to leap from the tub and careen her soapy, soaking wet body off of the walls like a ping-pong ball. Then she'd lick her crotch because what other method does a dog have to exhibit her utter contempt for her owner than to make sure that the same tongue she uses to greet you with sweet doggie kisses has thoroughly seen each nook and cranny of her nether regions?

After her bath last week, something weird happened. Glin could not get enough of the bathroom. She'd first follow us in there, walk around, then leave. Then she began sitting at the door, whimpering to be let in. Once we finally cracked - Really, what could it hurt? - and let her in, she immediately lept into the tub and furiously barked at the faucet. Barking at the faucet as though our lives depended on it. I started to wonder if the faucet had been taunting her since the bath and she'd just had enough and was looking to settle the score verbally.

In my head, Glin is telling the faucet things such as "No you din't, bitch!"

The situation has only gotten worse. Every time we take a shower, Glin wants in. The shower. While we're in it. Twice now she's managed to take advantage of the chaos happening during our morning commotion and jump in while one of us is showering. She doesn't do much more than stand there for the brief duration she makes it in, save for a quick lick of the shower curtain, but I can't for the life of me figure out why she wants to be near something she so clearly hates.

One of two things is happening: during her heated arguments with the bathroom plumbing she learned that the faucet has threatened to do us harm and she's attempting to protect us or she really would rather take a shower than a bath and is trying to bring that point home.

Either way, I'm seven shades of sick of picking up after a wet dog. So done with it.

Posted by Erin at 11:47 AM | filed under: Glin

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