“This dog is filthy!”, she proclaimed.
It was true, Saber had chased something into the woods (a fox or a deer, we don’t know what), but when she emerged she was caked in mud.
To be fair, her underside had been getting messier and messier with all the rain we’ve been having, slowly turning the fields into a quagmire.
It was a job we had been putting off, because (unlike the dog in the picture above) Saber really doesn’t like going in the bath. It’s a three-man job: two to hold her in there and one to wash. And at the end of it, the dog may be clean, but the bathroom and all of us are filthy.
Somehow, she knew what was about to happen and refused to come up the stairs, but with some tasty doggy treats, we eventually enticed her.
Then there was the usual struggle, as I tried to lift her into the bath, whilst she wriggled and struggled, placing all four feet on the sides of the bath to try and stop me lowering her into three inches of warm water. What’s that about? Get the hose out in the garden and all she wants to do is get as wet as possible! Take her over to Milton Keynes and she can’t wait to jump in the lake and chase the ducks. But, standing in three inches of warm water seems to terrify her.