A Tale of Two Butts and a Bath
For those of you who don’t know me very well, I have two Butts. And, apparently, they are quite itchy. This can be slightly irritating with one Butt, but with two it’s downright aggravating – and expensive.
I should probably mention, for those of you who don’t know me too well, that the Butts happen to be dogs – Mrs. Pain in the Butt (golden retriever, 12 years) and Wonderbutt (bulldog, 2 years).
Mrs. Pain in the Butt got her nickname because she has grown increasingly neurotic over the years, and being partly deaf does not seem to have improved her mental health.
Wonderbutt got his nickname for many reasons. You can read one here. And if you are questioning whether he truly deserves this name, another reason is because we often say, “I wonder… but I’m not even going to ask why he ate that completely inedible and somewhat pointy object that somehow managed not to rip his intestines to shreds.”
So, anyway, the two Butts both have skin problems. Mrs. P.I.B., I’m convinced, has Munchausen Syndrome, and has completely devised her own self-induced mysterious disease that is causing her skin to flake, lesions to form, and fur to billow about the living room. Despite her ragged appearance, I haven’t seen her scratch herself once in the last month, but the vet is convinced that she has allergies and Dramatic Treatment is Called For.
Then we have Wonderbutt, who approaches every person butt-side first because his rotundness and short legs preclude him from taking care of his own skin irritation in the region of his derriere. He is losing hair on both sides, which caused Great Concern last year, but apparently is only some weird form of Seasonal Affective Disorder that makes his depressed follicles shove out any hair that won’t let them “have their space.” I know exactly how they feel.
That’s right. I empathize with hair follicles.
Because of these problems, we decided to give both Butts a bath this weekend with some soap that cost more than my last 5 visits to the hair salon put together.
The smart person who designed this million dollar soap recommended that the dog stand for 20 minutes with the soap on its skin. When my husband, Cap’n Firepants, relayed this information, I had visions of lathered up Butts racing around our house, so I wisely opted to set up an outdoor bathing area. I implemented a complicated system of leashes, collars, a garden hose, and a swing set to create a makeshift grooming salon.
Even if you know me very well, you may not know that Wonderbutt has a thing about the backyard, where he is never allowed unsupervised because we are afraid he will poison himself or choke on a tumbleweed of ball moss. Other than consuming everything in sight, when Wonderbutt is in the backyard, his favorite thing to do is to charge. He races around with absolutely no regard for big or small obstacles; once he ran full-speed into a tree. Last week, he managed to knock both my husband and me down in the span of 10 minutes. I guffawed triumphantly at the toppling of Cap’n Firepants until Wonderbutt head-butted me in the back of my knees on my way inside.
Anyway, so I got Mrs. P.I.B. hooked up, and then it was Wonderbutt’s turn. He was being sassy, and kept trying to eat his collar, or flatten his head and neck to the ground so I couldn’t fasten the darn thing. Finally, I got him attached.
I stood up, and Wonderbutt looked at me with a familiar devious glint in his eye. Then he charged me at 100 miles an hour.
The leash caught him up a millisecond before he reached me, causing him to tumble over backwards with a surprised look on his face.
I am proud of myself that I was still able to get this picture despite the fact that I was laughing my butt off at my Butt.
Don’t worry; he recovered quickly, and proceeded to completely wrap himself around Mrs. P.I.B.’s legs and knock her off her feet like a calf in the rodeo. He’s like some kind of wonky Weeble with an overbite who happens to emit noxious fumes.
God, I love my Butts.