I’m a Survivor

Last night was tragic. It was like those scary movies, where all your worst fears come true. The kind where you barely make it out alive, but you have to, because you’re the protagonist, and the audience just wouldn’t be okay with the main person dying. 

What could be so tragic, you ask. Well you see, last night was bath night. 

I know what you’re all probably thinking: how is getting a bath so tragic. I get a bath every night. 

Well that’s all fine and well, but I’m a dog who isn’t used to 20 gallons of scalding hot water hitting me like hail. Some might find it crazy, but that just doesn’t sound relaxing or enjoyable to me. 

It started out as a normal evening. Marlee got home from work, I enjoyed the sunshine a little, and then we split a bowl of Mac N’ Cheese, Velveeta style for dinner. I thought the rest of the evening would be just as enjoyable. Maybe a little wine, while watching the newest LMN movie in bed. It sounded wonderful. 

But then the shower started. All my hopes and dreams came crashing down, just like the pellets of water I was about to be shoved under. 

Marlee tried to be sly about it. She grabbed a rawhide and tried to lure me into the shower using the power of the bone. She knows how much I love rawhides. How sneaky and how unforgivable. What kind of monster would use the thing I love the most in the World to trick me into doing the thing I hate most in the World. I don’t know when we will be on speaking terms again. 

Anyway, as you could have guessed, her plan failed. I snubbed the bone, something that I never do. It was hard and it was heart breaking. But it had to be done. 

Then she thought she would try to drag me from the bedroom into the shower by my collar, and when that failed, my front legs. Well try with all her might she could, but I was not budging. I dug my claws into the floor, and put all my weight into the resistance. I was certainly not going to let her win this tug-of-war battle. Not when my impending doom was on the line.

So that plan failed. 

But don’t worry, Marlee had another plan up her sleeve. An unspeakable one. 

All I heard was the fridge door open, and all I smelled was the delectable scent of cheese. Oh man, is she a monster. 

She was real smart about it this time too. She gave me a little piece of the cheese. She knew that once I tasted blood, I would attack (like that metaphor?).

She was right. I couldn’t resist. I followed her and the cheese upstairs and into the shower of death. 

I gobbled the rest of the cheese up, but by that time, it was too late. The shower door was closed, and I was trapped. 

As I stood in the back corner of the shower, trying to avoid the needles crashing down as much as possible, I couldn’t help but think how awful my night had turned out. In fact, I was preparing for death. Yes, baths to me are that horrible. 

The torture lasted forever. I got lathered up with oatmeal shampoo TWICE. No, not once- TWICE. And the sadest part was, it wasn’t even real oatmeal! 

But after about 10 minutes, the shower turned off, and surprisingly enough, I was still kicking. No, I was not dead. I was a survivor. 

And don’t worry, I did end up eating my rawhide bone. However, sadly enough, I will never be able to trust cheese or Marlee again. 

Like I said, it was a tragic night. 


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