Last spring, I decided to take Sully to the dog park in Omaha on one of our visits because both the Cedar Rapids and Iowa City dog parks had been temporarily closed because of the floods. What I didn't factor in was that Omaha had a lot of rain that week. When a muddy dog immediately pounched on Sully as we entered, I thought, "Oh, that's not good. I forgot a towel." As we walked around the park and I pondered going to Kmart to get some dog wipes to take the footprint off Sully's back, Sully decided to show me another way to remove the offending mark. He found a mud puddle - a large one - and proceeded to dive head first into it. It all happened in slow motion - like in was a scene from Beethoven Two, Four, and Sixteen. Sully rolled back and forth in the mud. He did that weird thing he does where he moves along the ground on one shoulder blade. He got out and then dove in again and repeated the process. He was literally covered from his nose to the tip of his tail in mud. He then ran happily around the park; his internal monologues seemed to be, "These mud baths in Omaha are fantastic! What a great vacation!" Everyone with their clean and reasonable dogs stared with their mouths open. I hid my face with my hand and said, "Um...he's adopted..."
So back to the dripping outside. The dog park would be muddy. I thought of our cars. We try to keep Sully out of the Camry except for when we travel. The Alero used to be the Sully car, but now that's gone. We haven't had the Corolla for a week yet. So I thought, "Hmmm...Sully, dog park, mud, Corolla...," and then I saw my marriage dissolve before my eyes.
I decide to, instead, take Sully for a long walk through our neighborhood. He was in need of a bath anyway. I'd let him romp through the melting snow and mud, and then bring him home and throw him in the tub. We went around the block, we circle the pond across the street, and because I knew we were going straight for the bathtub, I let him wade through puddles with abandon. He was in heaven. You think winter is hard on humans, but watch a dog on his first spring-like walk. He didn't moved his nose from the ground once: "SMELLS!!! My smells are back!!!" As we circle the pond, he looked back at me like, "Mom, the frogs. are. still. HERE!!!"
So I brought home one messy but happy dog:
Notice the mud on his head and back. And this is when he didn't have the freedom to roll as he desired.
He loved it as I rubbed him with a towel in the garage to get him clean enough to go in the house. He, as usual, ran from room to room upstairs, trying to dodge me as I attempted to get him in the tub. But once in the tub, he stood perfectly still as the water turned muddy beneath him. When I started to dry him off, he pressed his forehead against mine, like this vigorous petting was his reward after all that traumatic soap and water. He then found a sunny spot in the sun to dry off and rest after our eventful morning.
I have to admit, all that mud made his coat quite shiny. Maybe I'll have to have him share his other beauty tips on here sometime. 
1 comment:
That last one may be my favorite pictuure of Sully ever. ;)
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