Picture it : it's a hot sunny lazy Sunday afternoon. We are hanging in our chairs wondering whether to have another lemonade or a snooze , when all of a sudden I have a BRILLIANT idea ! Why not bathe Fwirly and Moose? Sure, Fwirly doesn't like being bathed ( hates it is a better description for it ) but Moose is a Newf cross and we all know THEY love the water. So , my plan is crafted . I get the bathroom ready and grab Fwirly ( who is now under the bed , for some reason she can read my mind ) . Get Fwirly out from under the bed. OK. Fwirly struggles, my back screams at me but I get her in the tub that's got nice cool water in it and she struggles around trying to leap out. But I was not born yesterday, I get her in a strong hold and manage to shampoo her and then proceed to rub her fur while talking to her. All with one hand mind you as the other is still strong holding. In the meantime, Moose is pushing against my back, wanting to see what's going on. Finally I manage to get Fwirly washed AND rinsed , check that the job is done well, yell for my son( the towel boy ) to come dry Fwirly but before I can lift her out she's already heading out the bathroom door. I let the water out and start anew. I am now soaking wet but who cares, NOW comes the easy part. That is if I can catch Moose because he is running away from me. In the meantime my son is trying to dry a soaking wet dog who is shaking herself dry in our little hallway. My brilliant plan is not looking quite so wonderful anymore as I see a lot of 'after' work in my future. Anyway, finally, after running around the house in my undies ( my son is not able to help as he's soaked in the hall with Fwirly still ), I finally corner Moose, lift him up, back is now getting really sore , and stumble back to the bathroom. As I try to put Moose in, he's already out of the tub again and on his way out of the bathroom at rapid speed. I'm skidding around in the bathroom, floor and me are soaked, and chase Moose through the house again , leaving a trail of wet behind. Moose , of course is still dry. Bum never hit the water! Finally I get him and it's back to the tub. One doesn't mess with momma ! When I have a brilliant plan, nothing will stop me from seeing it through till the end! Finally, Moose is in the tub, trying very hard not to get ANY body part wet. Me, on the other hand , I'm getting even more soaked as if this is possible. Holding Moose down is turning out to be a two hand job, so I have to splatter shampoo with my teeth. I have the bottle in my mouth and am biting on it to get the suds out on the dog. Let's just say the shampoo came close to Moose. I drop the shampoo on the ground beside me ( lid's still off of course ) and as I made that little head movement , Moose attempts to get out of the tub again. I get him back in at the last minute, but I too am now half in the tub , foaming at the mouth from the shampoo . I decide it's time to give up, rinse the darn dog, rinse my mouth, dry off the darn dog, dry myself off , open the bathroom door ( yes, my son finally helped by closing the bathroom door instead of helping me hold down Moose
??) , Moose walks out with an ' I had a wonderful bath , feel great , now I think I deserve a cookie !' kinda attitude, and as I am crawling out behind him, dragging soaked towels, I take a look back in what used to be my bathroom and realize that I have now created an afternoon's worth of work!
So who's the wise guy who said that Newfies like water anyway?
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