It's raining outside. I didn't feel like going out with the dog today. So I let him run around outside by himself. I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe I thought a dog could stay relatively clean and return just a little wet. I was wrong.
That fifteen week old beast came galloping through the door, not only wet, but covered in mud. He shook himself, and mud went flying all over the kitchen walls. He scratched at the garbage can and got mud all over that. Muddy paw prints covered the kitchen floor. And wherever he sat, there oozed puddles of mud. Did I mention the stench? Wet dogs are bad enough. Muddy wet dogs are simply unbearable. I thought I would vomit.
I attempted to wipe the beast with a warm wet cloth. The beast was more interested in playing tug. So now the beast sits by the back door drying off while I sit here trying to figure out how I'm going to get him upstairs to give him a bath without causing permanent damage to my house.