In an effort to clear my brain of all the clutter that bounces around in it I have been doing little projects around the house.
I dusted, got the bedding switched and vacuumed our bedroom (we have central vac but Bob hasn't put an outlet upstairs yet so I'm using this dusty, smelly thing but it's better than looking at the carpet and wondering why it is now grey (it's normally beige)).
So sanctuary is now clean and a good place to read when I wake up.
Last night I finally found the courage to take the fabric off my couch cushions and wash them. The last couch I did this too the damn things shrunk and got all pilly. Much to my delight these came up roses and the 'doggy' smell is partially gone from our den. (Just need to disinfect the floors now)
Bathing Cody has been on my todo list for about two weeks.
Tonight was D-day and I thought I had killed the poor guy.
The tub turns out to be too deep so even though I got Cody's front end into the tub, he was arched over the side until I could get his back legs in. Once in the tub I had the water running and lathered him up lickety-split. Problem was I was getting those sad puppy eyes which made me rush (so I can't say I got all the soap out of his fur but it was a valiant effort) and I finally went to get him out of the tub only he had no traction so I ended up in the tub lifting him (75lbs thank you very much) out onto a towel.
He was drenched.
He then laid down on the floor and did his huffing thing while I tried to dry him off. While doing this he peed on himself. Fun. So I have towels all under him soaking up the urine and I'm freaking a little bit cause maybe I've now killed him and the bath was hard enough on me the first time I wasn't going to lug him in to clean him a second time.
I finally just stand up and open the bathroom door thinking it was now or never.
Well, I swear he's been acting like a pup all evening. I took him outside (didn't know it was raining out because it was midnight so wasn't helpful in getting him dry) and he ran around like a frisky mutt.
Then he comes in all tail swishy and barking at me cause he knows he's getting a biscuit after that drama.
Pooped, I dropped onto the couch and decided no more anything for the rest of the night. The panic alone should have done me in.
Cody is still wet three towels later so I set up a blanket on the floor.
Nope. He wants on the couch.
I kept him off for about an hour but he was just moseying around the house so I finally got a couple of towels and a blanket to put under him on the couch. You know, the one I washed yesterday? Yeah, my planning sucks lately.
His deep snoring now mocks my earlier horror.
He slept with his head on my side for about an hour and a half and finally turned the other way so the butt end is now facing me. I couldn't find his brush so he looks like a wild dog and I'm sure I won't be winning any 'Pet Owner of the Year' awards from the neighbours when they get a load of his coat.
Looks like buying a brush is on the agenda for tomorrow. I just have to avoid eye contact so he doesn't get me to stop brushing him with those puppy eyes.
Once I realized I hadn't harmed the fella I got some more general clean up done.
Three hours later he's still damp as am I although I changed out of the clothes I bathed him in. Wet dog is the perfume of the day but it's better than stale urine.
Tomorrow is book day.
I was saying to Bob that I was stalling in reading my book and he looks down and says 'well, it doesn't look too thick, you could probably read it in 2 hours.' Uh, no. Six to eight. Then he looks at me and says 'then you'll have to go through that Anne Stuart funk'.
After twelve years of marriage he may not know what I put on my hamburger or if I always want fries with that (YES) but he knows I get blue after reading Anne Stuart!
*wipes tear from eye*
What a sweetie.
Note: Sweetie is heading into Home Depot withdrawal and is sporting 'the blues'.
Must. Stay. Strong.
I'm so going to cave and he doesn't even have Cody's puppy eyes!