I heard that Dad isn’t feeling well. He’s really sick. I hope he feels better soon.
If it makes him feel any better, I would’ve gladly traded places with him today. I don’t mind throwing up at all. And he doesn’t mind getting a bath at all. But I hate getting a bath about as much as he hates throwing up.
I heard my pack talking about how I needed a bath over the weekend. This sent shivers up my spine. You think I’m dirty? My beagle nose can smell you a half-mile away, but I’m not complaining.
This morning, I heard the bath water running in the hallway bathroom. This is where the torture usually occurs, so I headed for my cave. I went WAY under, but Mom found me and I fell for her usual trick – or, should I say, treat.
Then it began.
Oh, the humanity!
Mom took me outside and I tried to shake off the water and regain my dignity.
But as soon as I got back inside, the bath had transformed me from World’s Best Dog into Whacked-Out Dog. I have no control over this.
Finally, I collapsed.
I’m feeling much better now, and I hope Dad is feeling better, too.
Stay healthy, everyone! I love you!