Well, yesterday was wash day. A day, that never starts off great. The local pet store offers $1 dog washes on a Tuesday so mum spends her lunchtime taking us down for a good (?) soak if we've recently indulged in grimy bone or, in Inky's case, rolled in feces or other rotten animal remains. We can assure you, we do NOT like the procedure much at all.
After 10 minutes in the hydrobath each we get a rub-down before we get out and go absolutely bonkers. It's rubbing our selves against shelves, on the floor, on other people...anything we can find in the shop that offers some kind of friction and smell-attraction. We go absolutely "flippin' bananas" (mum's words) just to get that ikky feeling off our skin.
Often the seizures last more than 10 minutes and we must rub ourselves against fences, lampposts, concrete structures etc as the pinkie drags us home. On a bad day, we still feel the urge as we enter the home and shoot straight for the rug where it is "face down, bum up" driving around for at least 4 laps before collapsing in a heap, panting from all the activity.
However, there is a happy ending. While paying for the dog wash at the counter, mum also picks up an order of pig's ears. So when we finally get home and have settled down a bit we hear our favourite advertising call, "Schweineöhrchen"...
INKY and MOLLY