I have something to tell you... my mom tortures me. She does it at least once a week. And dad helps.
They both call this devious torture...a BATH, and try to make me believe it's a good thing, but I am not buying it! I know that what they are really trying to do, is make me look more like them...which means less hairy!
There is a big white tank in the little room down the hall, that is used for this weekly ritual. They fill that tank up with wet stuff and plop me in it. Then mom grabs this hissing snake from the wall that spews liquid out from it's head, and she douses me with it! I fight, I try to jump out, but dad holds me down.
Once they have me totally soaked, mom reaches for the container that holds the smelly stuff. Oh it's just dreadful, it smells like a flower. She pours this icky scented stuff all over me and tries to rub my fur off with it.
I guess it doesn't work, because after she is finished with that, she gets that snake and sprays me all over again with that VENOM! Then she grabs another container with pink stuff in it. Pink stuff...can you believe that?! It smells worse than the first batch of hair remover.
Again, she rubs it all over me, and you just know this stuff is gonna work 'cause both mom and dad are smiling, telling me how bootiful I am going to look and smell. But the pink stuff didn't really work, I still have all my fur, so I think they have finally given up. They lift me from the torture tank and wrap me a some kind of straight jacket thing.
This is how I look right after they remove me from the torture device.
I know...it's pretty sad isn't it! You can tell by the look on my face, how traumatic it has been! Notice the straight jacket!!!!!!
You'd think after all this, they would know that they can't defur the dog, but ohhhhhhhhhh nooooooooooo, they still wont give up. They have a new plan...lets see if we can melt and blow the fur off the dog!! Taking aim, mom revs up a hot air gun and points it at me. I look up at dad with pleading eyes that say, please make it stop! But I know these two are in it together, and lose all hope of a reprieve, when dad turns me around to face the barrel of that gun.
After 5 minutes of assault by hot air, mom realizes, this too has failed. But, she has one more trick up her sleeve - the double clacky snipper knives! I cringe and whine softly as she cuts away my fur. When the shearing ceases, mom looks quite pleased with herself, tells me what a good boy I have been, then kisses me on the nose! I think they have accomplished their mission. I must now be completely devoid of fur.
As dad cleans up the torture chamber, eliminating any evidence of what has gone on in that room, mom picks me up and holds me in front of the big reflecting glass. At first I am frightened to look, but mom holds my chin up, and says, "Look at what a bootiful boy you are." I hazard a quick glance...and I am amazed!
This is what I see.
WOW...I still have most of my fur, I look marvellous, and ya know what...
I do smell kinda nice!
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