Brigit
Baths were bad enough, but tonight Megan had poured some foul-smelling liquid all over her first. It was awful! Brigit sneezed and sneezed to clear the awful stench from her nose. After Megan had rinsed the yucky stuff off, she’d given Brigit a bath with the usual peach shampoo, digging in extra hard with her fingers to get through the thick fur, all the way down to Brigit’s skin. That part wasn’t so bad. Brigit always liked a good scratch.
Afterward, Megan wiped her down with a towel, first in one direction and then the other. Of course that wasn’t going to stop Brigit from doing a full-body follow-up shake to get rid of the water left behind. Megan shrieked and held up the towel to protect herself from the deluge. The obligatory shake dispensed with, Brigit felt a case of the zoomies coming on.
Weeeee!
Off Brigit went, fueled partly by a primal need to rid herself of the horrible fruit scent and partly by an unbridled joy that the torture of the bath was over. She leaped up onto the couch, rubbed herself along the pillows at the back, and leaped back down. She put her right shoulder down to the rug, running with her back feet, performing a cockeyed canine version of a wheelbarrow. When her right side was done, she turned around and did the same thing on her left side.
Megan came into the living room and barked orders at Brigit, insisting she stop. But they were off duty now, equals as far as Brigit was concerned. Not gonna happen, sister.
Flopping over on her back, the dog wriggled and writhed, curling one way then the other in a furry frenzy.
Almost done. Just one more step.
Brigit rolled to her feet and bolted past Megan into the bedroom. She sprang from the floor and sailed through the air, landing on their bed. She stretched her front paws out and scooped the soft covers toward her until they formed a big, comfy pile. When it was just right, she flopped down on it. Aaaaah.