White Dawg Wednesday

If your pawrents aren't on that awful f@cebook, you missed my traumatic news from last week.  We had a super warm day here in the Mitten State and Mom gotted out the leash and I thought we were going for a walk to check my pee-mails.  However, we gotted in the car and went to a horrible, horrible place. It's almost as bad as the v-e-t.  It's the dawg wash place.  I do not like it there.  Not one bit.  I wouldn't walk up the ramp into the tub, so Dad lifted me in there (traitor!). Then he squirted me with a hose (traitor!) while Mom rubbed cherry-flavored gunk all over me. Then Dad squirted me with that hose again (traitor!). It was awful.  They washed off all of my good stink.  I've been working on that stink for a long time.  It was terrible. Mom said I didn't have to get dried with the blow dryer since it was so warm out.  She even told me that I could shake the water off my furs.  Which I did.  Repeatedly.  All over her. Then we went home and she turned on the space heater and gotted my bed all warm for me. She was trying to kiss up, but it didn't work.  I wouldn't even look at her. She took away my good stink and replaced it with cherry-flavor and then she kept singing THIS SONG to me and it was annoying.  I am NOT your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb! Really, Mom.  To make it even worser, whenever I get a bath, my furs get all weird and frizzy. It was a totally rough day to be a froot bat at my house.

Here is a picture of me with my frizzy furs.  Notice that I am not looking at Mom. She even threw me some "gimme some frooooot baaaaats," and I was all, "Uh, lady?  Are you insane? I'm not even going to look at you."

The pouting worked pretty well, though.  It gotted me lots of treats and Mom and Dad fawned all over me for days. While I don't recommend a bath, the pouting works wonders.  Definitely give it a try if you get the opportunity. hehehe