Why you dirty dog

Every once in a while hubby and I will manage to be on the same schedule so that we can go into town to eat. Together, I mean. But we can’t just pick up and go, we have to get the dogs all settled.

I let the dogs out of the house for a few minutes, so they can take care of business. There is a dip in the southwest corner of the yard that holds rain water for a while. When I let out the dogs, Clint heads straight for it, at full speed. By the time I figure this out, he’s already there, wallowing in the water and mud. He stretches out, crawls forward and then rolls back and forth on his back several times. He really is wallowing, happily.

Eventually, I manage to get Clint out of the mud pit. After I bring all the other dogs into the house, I have to hose him down and dry him off. Clint likes this game. He attacks the water hose, proving his prowess. For my part, I’m trying to get the hose pointed on him and not on me. While I’m drying him off, he’s pawing the air and the towel, rolling over on his back so I can rub his tummy. Such a sweet muddy buddy.

Finally, Clint is clean and mostly dry. I, however, am somehow wearing most of the mud and water I removed from him. No wonder it takes me so long to get ready.

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