Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Routine

It's amazing how a routine that not long ago was mind numbing, today was a welcome change from hectic, heartbreaking events of the last three weeks. Dad and I stayed home all day today. I did laundry, a little vacuuming, dishes, the things I hate, today were welcome friends.

Along with everyday chores I gave Bazinga a bath. I don't know if I have ever said this before, but Bazinga HATES baths. He hates being combed, he hates getting his nails clipped. The only part he likes about, as my friend Dawn calls it, puppy spa day, is getting the fur cut away from his eyes.

Puppy spa day always starts the same. There is a very precise routine that starts every puppy spa day. It never varies. Puppy spa day starts with me convincing myself that Bazinga needs a bath. This is the longest part of the day. It usually is a twenty-four to forty-eight hour process. I have to work hard to get to the point where I truly believe I need to give Bazinga a bath.

It starts with the looking at him and saying "you need a bath." This part of the process can take days. It must be done repeatedly. If not said at least seventeen times, the world would be sure to implode.

The next step has been proven to be the absolute most difficult step in the process, many studies have been done. The next step, is getting my butt off the couch. First, the 'you need a bath" step must be repeated at least three more times. Then all electronic devices must be set aside. Sometimes, this take a crowbar and melted butter. Once the separation from all electronic devices has been achieved, the legs and knees must lift said butt up off of the couch. This can take hours. If not accomplished quickly after separation from electronic devices, then the devices seem to find their way back in to the hands and the whole process must be repeated. At least another forty-eight hours will be needed to complete separation once again.

When removal of butt from couch has finally succeeded, Bazinga must be caught. Since he is not the brightest dog in the world, that isn't very hard. Why he thinks hiding under Dad's walker is a good idea is a mystery that likely will never be solved.

I take off his collar, and he knows the next couple of hours will be filled with torture and horror. He gets coconut oil rubbed into his hair. The ever so evil comb comes out. The next half hour to forty-five minutes are spent having that evil comb ripping out every last lock of hair on his body.

Once the coconut oil is all combed through his hair, the terror is just beginning. He hears the bath water start to fill the tub. "Where can I hide? Where can I hide?" He says to himself. "Oh, yeah, the walker! The BEST hiding place ever!" He slinks over and sits by the walker. I pick him up and take him into the bathroom.

"How does she ALWAYS find me there. It is the best hiding place ever!"

The actual bath goes fairly quickly. Bazinga is sure I'm trying to drown him, but he always survives. His blue horse shampoo gets everywhere when he shakes. He shakes a lot. I know he does it on purpose to get blue horse shampoo all over me and the bathroom. Undaunted, I continue showering him with water. Then wrap him in towels and take him to the front room.

Time to clip his nails and comb him again. More combing. He hates the combing. He rolls and twists and turns. The whole time messing his hair back up all over again, which causes more combing.

Finally done, I put his Hawkeye collar back on. He LOVES his collar. His collar makes him happy. His collar is magical! It has super powers beyond all super powers! It makes the combing stop! Once his collar is on no one can comb him. It is his force field of safety! No comb can touch him with his collar on!


No comments:

Post a Comment