Brigit
Brigit wasn’t sure why Megan scolded her for lapping water out of the bucket. When humans put a bowl of water on the ground, wasn’t it usually for a dog to drink from? She hadn’t much liked the soapy taste, though. Yuck.
The scolding and soap aside, Brigit hadn’t minded the mall bathroom too much. All it had were sinks and toilets, no tubs. Brigit hated bathtubs. Every time Megan tried to call her into the bathroom at home, she knew it was for a bath. She’d run and hide under the bed. If Megan was going to force her to take a bath, Brigit wasn’t going to make it easy on her. And Megan seemed to always want to give Brigit a bath just when she was smelling her most interesting, right after she’d rolled on a dead squirrel or in some wonderfully foul muck. Maybe if Megan would try rolling on a rodent corpse, she’d realize how good she could smell, too.