Dear Amelia,


You walk into the bath like a nervous champion, and then you remember water and what happens next. My darling water dog, you are not the type to enjoy a bath. I turn on the faucet and there go your ears, limp and still. I coo at you like a baby and you stay absolutely still. Perhaps hoping your 70 pound frame of black fur will blend in with the white shower floor. Oh but I love you and to shampoo you. You need a lot of shampoo, especially on your corn chip paws. Your fur gets waved and curled and you get afraid of slipping. After a bit you brave a shake and I get shampoo and bits of your shed on my face. Thank god for shorts, and just plain you. Then a quick rinse and ringing out your fur, oh how much can stick in that undercoat. And old fluffy towels (you need two), and a nice rub down. This makes it worth it for you, this part you love. But even more, I think, you love the wild run around you do with your sisters once I free you from the tiny bathroom. You run like a stallion, a champion once again (your bath time shivers will be our little secret).

love, momma

1 comment:

I adore your notes! Please don't be shy! :)