Tuesday was bath day. No, not mine. Mine come significantly more often than that. I'm talking about the fourfoot. He loves the word "bath". It means he gets to jump in and out of the tub. He's quite quite happy about all of it, usually. Until the water starts. Then it's not so much fun any more.
He's a little stubborn in the bathtub. Likes to poke his head as far out from it as possible, and *not move*. He doesn't try to escape. He doesn't make much of a fuss. He knows who the alpha is (unlike some). But that doesn't mean he has to co-operate _completely_. This time around was more of a trial than normal. He realised that water was really going into the tub this time, so he decided to make himself as heavy and awkward a weight as possible. Had to lift the little blighter in.
Once he was in, it was the normal routine. A good dog. Not fighting it, but pointedly Not Helping.
When it was all over, he was ecstatic and much friskified. He got to run around the house and up and down the stairs and around the house and up and down the stairs and around the house and... you get the idea. He's very very happy... *after* the bath.
Hmmm, a recap... Well, last week, I persuaded </a></strong></a>evil_dwagon to drop by on his way home from AC. We had a blast, even though he had to leave a bit earlier than he would have liked (always the way). Paintball, Evangelion, Chronicles of Riddick and generally being irresponsible and stuff.
The work search is still in casual mode. I'm enjoying the summer muchly. Between the visitor and the previous week (when I was rather unwell), I missed a few days of cycling, but I've been back at it this week. 20km seems about a good distance.
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