Finally the weather was warm enough to bath the dog. After an increasingly frowsy winter it was time to degrub the beast. It is not fun. No fun at all. Well not for those of us with opposable thumbs anyway.
This is the penalty you have to pay for having a dog too big to fit in the bath, and even if he did, too big to be allowed upstairs whilst wet.
First you fill an old tin bath with hot water
Then you find towels you don't care about
Then you argue with each other about whose turn it is to wash the nether regions
Then you find the dog
Then you convince the dog he wants a bath
Then you convince the dog he wants to come outside with you. (This is one of the times opposable thumbs begin to show a purpose)
Dog, outside, suitably haltered, glares and moans.
(This is when I remember I should have changed into jeans and found my wellies)
Throw a lot of water about in a fairly random way (Hope some gets the dog)
Get dog soapy (trying to accept the fact you got the D's B's)
Rinse ad nauseum
Then you run - a long way, a long, long way before the dog shakes himself, and if sensible you run into the house closing the door behind you, before the dog decides to come and sit on your lap and tell you all about it.
Personally I would prefer the tin bath to look like this
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