Brigit
Uh-oh.
Megan was in the bathroom, calling in a pleasant voice for Brigit to come to her. But Brigit wasn’t fooled. Megan had filled the tub with water but had not gotten undressed. That could mean only one thing. She planned to give Brigit a bath.
Well, good luck with that. Brigit had other plans.
The dog ran into the bedroom and wriggled until she was under the bed. With any luck, Megan wouldn’t find her here. If I just keep quiet …
She saw Megan’s feet appear in the bedroom doorway. A moment later, Megan’s face appeared as she bent down to peek under the bed.
Busted.
Megan reached under the bed, grabbed Brigit’s front paws, and dragged her out into the room. Brigit was tempted to snap at Megan, but as much as she didn’t want a bath, she knew biting her partner would get her in big trouble. Besides, even though she didn’t like that Megan was trying to make her get in the tub, she loved her partner and didn’t want to hurt her.
Her instincts kicked in, telling her what to do. If she couldn’t fight, she must flee. Run!
Brigit’s paws scrabbled on the floor, but before she could get any traction Megan grabbed her collar, dragged her to the bathroom, and slammed the door behind them so Brigit couldn’t attempt an escape like she’d done before. Though Brigit flattened herself against the floor, Megan somehow managed to get her hands under Brigit and pick her up just high enough to wrestle her into the tub.
The jig was up.
There was nothing to do now but get it over with.
Brigit endured the bath, all the while wondering whether Megan realized Brigit could rip her throat out if she wanted to. Not that she ever would. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you and all that. But it was kind of fun to think about sometimes.
Megan scrubbed her with that awful fruit-scented shampoo, rinsed her with the sprayer, and, after what seemed like forever, pronounced her “all done.” Brigit knew what that meant, too. Time to leap out of the tub and shake before Megan could get that towel around her.
The dog shook like she’d never shook before, sending up a spray of water and fur that coated the walls, mirror, and cabinets. Megan made high-pitched noises that Brigit knew were protests, but she ignored them and shook herself again. This is what her handler got for dragging her out from under the bed.
Megan toweled her off and opened the bathroom door. Brigit darted out like she’d been shot from a cannon. This fruity smell was disgraceful! She had to get this awful peach scent off her fur and make herself smell like a dog again!
She bolted into the living room, sprang over Zoe and onto the futon, and rubbed herself back and forth and back and forth against the cushion. Why not rub the bed, too? She leaped from the couch, ran to the bedroom, and flew onto the bed, rolling over and over and rubbing up and down on the bedding.
When she heard Megan call from the kitchen, she sprang off the bed and dashed into the room, her wet paws sliding across the flooring. She skidded toward the door and bolted outside when Megan opened it.
The grass! Sweet, wonderful grass!
Brigit ran three laps around the backyard at breakneck speed before diving onto the grass and rolling over and over and over until she ended up wriggling on her back under a pecan tree. That same stupid squirrel taunted her from above. Chit-chit-chit!
Wriggle-wriggle-wriggle! Wriggle-wriggle! Wriggle-wriggle-wriggle!
Finally, she’d rid herself of the peach scent and smelled like a self-respecting dog again. Only then did she stand and walk proudly back into the house to be served her dinner.