Saturday Morning [two] Stooges

OK, since one of us was Sienna, I suppose it was only one Stooge...me.

It all started when I noticed that she smelled, well, like a dog.  So I decided to give her a shower.

No big whoop.  Done it bunches of times.  Heck, occasionally Daughter even gives her a shower.


I start by removing her collar, and point to the bathtub.  She dutifully hops right in.  I follow, and pull the shower curtain closed.

She doesn't much care for being in the direct path of the shower stream, so I pick her 33 pound frame up and get her fur wet so I can apply shampoo.  Soon, she has been lathered and the shampoo massaged, about as thoroughly scrubbed as she's gonna get.  So now it's time to rinse out the shampoo.

As usual, I pick her up again, now about 35 pounds with all the suds and water, to rinse her under the shower head.  After just a couple of moments, she shifts her weight unexpectedly.  I compensate by getting a better stance in the bathtub - and step on the now empty shampoo bottle, which has fallen from the tub ledge and is now underfoot.

The next sequence seemed to happen in slow motion: My footing now unsecure, I lost my balance - Sienna still cradled in my arms as I fell outward from the tub - down came the shower curtain, liner, and rod - the commode bounced me away from hitting my head on the corner of the bathroom counter.  We hit the floor - wet, sudsy dog still in my grasp, the shower - now sans curtain, still running.

No broken bones - I get up and put her back in the tub, and shut off the water.  Surprisingly, she's not freaked out by all this.  I spent the next five minutes searching for the rubber pads that protect the shower tile from the rod ends - replaced and tightened the rod and reattached several of the hooks (the liner didn't even tear) - and finished rinsing the dog.

I dried her off, mopped up the wet bathroom floor, and chuckled about the whole incident.

At least she smells good now.