She hides.

Her ears go down when she hears, “bath.”

In the tub she goes.

She looks up with sad eyes.

She tries to escape but knows she’s defeated.

Wrapped in a towel, she knows what’s next.

She scurries but settles on the towel

as the familiar sound of the dryer fills the room.

She puts her head on my lap and looks up at me

as if asking how long ’till it ends.

It’s over and she’s clean and fluffy.

Out the door she goes, frisky and free.

Now, I look in the mirror and the one

that needs a bath is me.

3 thoughts on “Bath

  1. I enjoyed your imagery and chuckled at your last lines. I’m sure you were quite wet and furry from bathing her. If only our furry family members understood that bathtime is a labor of love.

  2. Such a cute little story…would make a cute picture book. My Weimaraner is the same way. She hangs her head down throughout the whole process! ~ Theresa

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