Yesterday Isaac and I took a long walk at a nearby park. He got to wade in a very muddy pond a couple of times and he also managed to roll in something quite stinky. When we got home, I had a very smelly, wet, dirty dog.
I immediately set about preparing for a bath. I picked up the throw rugs in my bathroom, got out some old towel, got out the expensive new anti-itchy dog shampoo, adjusted the water in the tub. Then I went into the kitchen to get the hot dogs.
See, I bribe Isaac with hot dogs to get him into the tub. He weighs 80 pounds. It's not like I can lift him and make him get in. He will do anything for a bite of hot dog, though.
Only I discovered the hot dogs in the fridge had apparently been in there too long. They were growing mold. Looked like some sort of science experiment.
But Isaac had to have a bath. Absolutely had to. And I wasn't going out to buy more hot dogs first.
I had some shredded cheese, which he and Cayenne both love. So I got that out. Isaac followed me happily into the bathroom, anticipating some cheese. I gave him a pinch of it and he ate it readily. Then I put some in the tub and told him to get in.
He looked at me like I was a complete idiot.
He stood there like a rock, looking at the cheese in the tub, and not moving.
I tossed in a little more cheese and nudged him in the butt. He did not budge.
Apparently, as much as he likes cheese, he does not like it nearly as much as hot dogs. Apparently, it is absolutely not worth getting into the tub for.
A lengthy discussion ensued. More cheese was offered. More nudging commenced.
Eventually I did get him into the tub. But man. I gotta make sure I have hot dogs on hand.
I supposed I should also work on getting him into the tub without hot dog. But man.
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