pica_pica

yes, I should have taken photos of that. No, I didn't.

Man that must be quite the spectacle, I mean, he barely fits. He doesnt seem to really mind getting a bath though. I went into the bathroom and picked the towel that was the most distant in time from the last trip through the washing machine, and layed it down on the floor of the tub. Too slippery for his liking, otherwise. I whistled, called him, Morgieeee, you wanna bath? and here comes his head around the corner from the living room. He slowly walks into the bathroom, head down, and walks up to the side of the tub. He hangs his head over the side, and gives a couple sniffs and Im really not sure what he thinks of it. Perhaps after all these years, he simply knows there is no fighting it. Once its gotten to this point, its pretty much a done deal the towels been thrown down, there is no escape. Besides, he knows hes getting some of those cookies stacked up on the sink.
Usually, hell hesitantly, but voluntarily put one leg over the edge of the tub and in. Its not too difficult to get the rest of the train to follow the engine once both his front legs are in, and his sternum crosses the threshold.
Not tonight though. He wasnt about to make the first step. I tried with everything, snapping my fingers, talking soothing puppy dog words, comon pups its waaaaarm and goooood. I even held a cookie far on the otherside near the faucet. Nope. Not happening.

So its picking him up I guess. Sure. I have to lean over, wrap both my arms around his chest from above, lock my fingers and strain with everything Ive got to get his front legs off the ground high enough to clear the edge of the tub and in. Course, his back legs are still totally on the ground this is one heavy dog. (last time we was weighed, he was sitting at 180 but I think hes lost weight in the last couple of years. Maybe 160, 170 or something around there) Anyways, I was able to wobblewalk his front end over the edge and in, slowly dropping his front paws down on the wet towel and letting him get the feel of it. He hesitated for a second, but then voluntarily brought his back legs over and in. Thank god.. I don't like much reachin around back there.

This is when the totally pathetic look comes over his face. Ears down, head dropped, jowels slack. His nose almost touches the front wall of the tub, with his back end almost pressed against the back. Great Danes are not meant for tub bathing.. or perhaps tubs arent meant for great danes.

Aaaanyways. The spectacle. It really comes down to experience and reality. After so many years of bathing wait, no actually, to be honest, R was usually the one in charge of bath duty. We tried for the first few years to do it together, if even just to share the experience with our baby, but eventually after Morgan hit around 5 or 6 years old, we realized that it was just too difficult to try to fit more than a single human into that equation and she pretty much took it over.

So yeah, its been me on bath duty for the last year or two now, and man, you learn pretty quick the dos and donts.

Id throw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that I should probably just throw out anyways, and start with the handheld extension of the shower head at the not to cold, not to warm temp and start to drench him with it in long sweeping motions. Get the doggie shampoo out, and pour a long slug of it all the way down his spine from the base of his neck to the start of his tail, then start working it in. Well, within moments, you are going to pretty much be covered in dog hair, soap suds and water. Your clothing is going to get soaked, and totally screwed. Basically, what Im sayin is that its way easier to just not wear anything.

Its so much easier to just get one foot in the tub and lean over him, and there is no reason to muck up your clothing when all you have to do is rinse your own self off afterwords.

None-the-less, Im sure that should be some scene in some movie that hasnt been made where somebody walks into a scene like that. Which is one of many reasons there are no photographic updates of said event. I really don't even wanna see it myself: my naked ass standing in the tub with Morgan, both of us covered in hairy soapsuds. Uh.. no.

Hes smellin all good now though, after numerous soaked towels and a goofy 20 minute session with a hairdryer, hes all soft and happy. I have spent the rest of the evening stacking up my dusty camping gear by the door. I am so excited. I havent been out of the city for so so long now, and we are heading up to an area I have never been before! Even though its only overnight, I know I am just going to love it. Rain or shine.

Being Friday, of course, its been raining all day here in town, so hopefully a bunch of negativios out there looked out at the rain, and kyboshed their weekend camping plans in favour of staying here in the city and yelling SHOWER at the forlorn looking woman on the stage in some dank club somewhere in the downtown east side, cuz thats what negativios do when they are leaving the peace and quiet of an almost empty campground to me, Morgan, and somebody I still feel somewhat uncomfortable mentioning, but am mentioning anyways cuz theres no real reason I shouldnt. This is my life, and Ive not been anything but honest to everybody involved in it.

I have always loved this journal, and I have been grossly negligent in my ability to really be here of late. I will have much more to say about that, but it needs to be said right.. something I have not quite got together in a way that makes me happy yet.

No, this is the camping weekend. Im quite sure this is the recharge I need.

I bought Morgan his own sleeping bag today. An oldschool one, all flannel on the inside, but thick. Hes gonna love it. (yeah, hes getting old.. he needs to stay warm or he gets all stiff) Its brand new, so hell probably sleep better than me.
I also bought a new, much larger compact flash card for my camera. Apparently now, at the medium setting it can store 620 photos. So expect some sort of photographic essay upon my slow strided, light footed, peaceful return.