All Our Children Meow and Woof: B-A-T-H

All Our Children Meow and Woof

I created this blog to sort through my emotions as Finnegan, a great Irish Wolfhound, fought bone cancer for nearly 26 months. Fortunately, his battle subsided for many months and during the course of the 26 months, I shared stories about his feline siblings. On August 8, 2008, Finny passed on in my husband's and my arms. He fought the good fight and he will always have a special place in my heart. *If you have a question, please write me at finnegandog at gmail dot com.*

Monday, April 23, 2007


I can't even say that awful awful word out loud. The thought of it makes me shudder. Ewwww! Yesterday, it finally stopped snowing and it was actually 75 degrees. That's right. 75 degrees Fahrenheit. That's, um, warmish-hot in Celsius. And of course, with what does warm weather equate? Yes, that's right, water and soap. On me. What's wrong with the way I smell? I am glorious in my odoriferous wonder. I like to call it Canine Couture. But no. Mommy and Daddy thought I smelled a little like wet dog. Well what did they think was going to happen after they bathed me? Hmm? WET DOG AGAIN. Duh.

The thing is that Mommy is a good con woman. To get me over to the bathing spot, she pulls out my leash like we are going for a walk. So of course I'm all "OH BOY! OH BOY! WE'RE GOING FOR A WALK!" And then I realize: "Wait a minute, I know where you are taking me. " This is when I use my full body weight, dig my heels into the ground, and STOP THIS MADNESS. Eventually, after pushing, prodding, begging, and bribing, I reluctantly follow Mommy to the bathing spot.

WHOOSH! A stream of lukewarm water hits me. Humans seriously enjoy showers? And then, the worst part. Mommy squirts the lilac girlish smelling shampoo down my long back and on my tummy. Couldn't she have chosen something more manly? Like Eau de Mud Puddle? I must admit, I enjoyed the massaging of the soap into my skin. Okay, this isn't so bad. I can take this for awhile.

WHOOSH! Yet again, she hits me with the water. Wasn't once enough? Bleck! Finally, after rinsing, rinsing, rinsing, rinsing, AND rinsing again, the soap is gone.

Now it's time for me to shake-ah shake-ah shake-ah all the water off. WHOOHOO! This is the best part. Mommy takes a huge towel and begins the drying process. This is the part where I take my massive cranium and play the part of the bull. I crash into the towel and into Mommy to rub my head dry. This is fun!

Finally the game is over. Mommy brings me a new fresh bowl of water and two treats, really I think I deserved twenty, and for the rest of the day I alternated between relaxing in the sun and shade. I know, I know, I really lead such a hard life.


Anonymous BOSSY said...

Bossy is so excited to meet your acquaintance because - Little Known Fact - she is the biggest Irish Wolfhound freak of all times!!!

Bossy has a Great Dane, Stella. Her Great Dane is not fond of baths of any variety, especially Scary Foot Baths that involve the large metal bucket that clatters. Because Stella isn't fond of clattering. Or the daily newspaper wrapped in plastic. It's a Dane thing - you wouldn't understand.

Anyway - come back and check out my website anytime - make yourself at home!

5:53 PM  
Blogger macgoogle said...

Bath.... ugh. Towel = good. We must come up with a solution for all dogdom!

Love and Licks,
Texas (and his humans).

6:11 PM  
Blogger Sophie Brador said...

Oh no! Mom was totally inspired by your last post (see my new post), and now she'll probably be inspired by this one too. If I get a bath tomorrow, it's your fault Finnegan! But I do like to smell pretty. It's a girl thing, I guess.

10:47 PM  
Blogger PerfectTosca said...

Yeah we finally got good weather too! Today I helped Mom prune things and I moved branches for her. I snarl at the rake though. I don't know what it is about that rake. It is The Enemy!

12:28 AM  
Blogger Kerrio said...

ah yes - wriggling wet wolfie. I recognise the description. Usually followed by frisky wet wolfie trying to kill the towel.


2:18 AM  
Blogger Fu Fu said...

Hey Finny, oh.. I feel for you on the bath.. The squirrel pic in your previous post is so funny. hee

~ fufu

5:53 AM  
Blogger FleasGang said...

Scarlett starts to smell like "pond water" when she needs a bath - and we don't even live near a pond! When she gets ripe, we all get baths :-(

The FleasGang :-)

11:05 AM  
Blogger Nanook The Newfoundland said...

Hey - I am wondering how the taste test for Timberwolf went!

4:43 PM  
Blogger Asta said...

Thanks so much for leaving your gorgeous picture on my slide...the stuuuupid slide thinks Pennsylvania is Panama, I'm so sorry, it did it to one of my other pals too..I can't correct it, you can if you want...anyway I send you kisses,I have to have a bath friday Ughhhhhh, and stripping yikes!!!! what price beauty. love Asta

9:41 AM  
Blogger Nanook The Newfoundland said...

Finny Fin! Come visit my blog, I have big new(f)s!

7:32 PM  
Blogger Pacco de Mongrel said...

same here...i absolutely hate bath....

it make me smell like sumthing else, apart frm being myself..

4:09 AM  
Blogger nm said...


I like baths (I am embarrassed to say so). The only thing I don't like is when they want to wash my underside. That seems very personal.

My moms bought me some khiel's shampoo and conditioner. It doesn't smell very girly at all, just clean.

with awe, as usual,


5:08 PM  
Blogger Hammer said...

Hello Finnegan

We all run for the hills with the B... word. We don't care if we're clean and we smell nice. We all hate being ... BATHED !!! .. I said that B... word.

Thank you very much for caring about my brother, Beau.

Love from Hammer

7:32 AM  

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