Dog Nose

This is Sammie, our vicious pooch. She's not enjoying herself, and it's all my fault.

You see, Sammie reeks. Not only does Sammie reek, but she has gas that can peel the paint off walls.

I'm not exaggerating here. I know I like to exaggerate, but I'm not exaggerating right now.

Prior to having kids, I wouldn't have minded so much, but for some strange biological reason, pregnancy and childbirth has not only wreaked havoc on my body, but it has changed my ability to smell.

I now have a super keen sense of smell, otherwise known as Dog Nose.

Blood Hound Dog Nose to be exact.

I can smell things I never could have smelled before. Things I don't want to smell, mind you.

It's so bad, that one day I called the fire department because I smelled gas that no one else in this house could. I had four firemen in my house, completely decked out in their gear, walking around my house with their carbon dioxide detector or whatever the heck it was, looking for the source of the gas smell.

They never found it, but dang it, I smelled it, and I know I smelled it.

And I got the distinct impression that they thought I called them out entirely for my own amusement. As if. Why would I want firemen in my house?

My Dog Nose is even worse when I'm ovulating. Why, for crying out loud, is this?

So, since I have this freakish Dog Nose, Sammie had to have a bath. Sister Girl's bouquet was just too ripe, and if she didn't have a bath, she was going to be sleeping outside.

Lucky for Peanut Head (because he's the official dog washer in this house) we have a nifty new Pet Wash that sprouted up near our house. The Pet Wash is situated between several car wash bays, and I have to tell you, it is the neatest thing.

Sammie seems to disagree.

Doesn't she look miserable?

She'll never again have a bath in the comfort of her own home. That's right, Girlfriend. No more shaking your reekish, stinky bouquet all over my bathroom.

From now on, you get to walk your hairy, geriatric self up the rubber lined ramp at the Pet Wash.



Check this out, the pet wash is run just like a car wash. You don't need to be taking any shampoo, or conditioner, or even a towel with you. You just run that stinky dog right through all the settings and she will be squeaky clean.

It even has a de-skunk setting. I wish I would have pushed that one while we were there. I'm curious to see what comes out. Maybe next time.

So anyway, you put your money or your debit card in and then just start pushing the buttons for the setting you need. Whatever you want will come out of the end of the hose.

They even have hoses for you to vacuum your dog and blow them dry. Sammie was not impressed.



I am so going to get my revenge. They are going to pay for this.



There's even a rubber mat so Sister Girl doesn't slip and fall.

And a chain to tie her to the sink in case she tries to run.

Not that she could go anywhere, because we were in an enclosed room and she doesn't have opposable thumbs.



I'm in my happy place. My happy place. My H-A-A . . . .



Whoa Lassie! What the heckito is THAT?!!!!!



You keep that wind away from my girlie bits, Mister!





I am going to poop on your carpet when we get home.