DOGGY WATER TORTURE

Did you know, Dear Interwebs, that my dog has a horrid, icky, evil mommy? It's true. Just ask him. This is what he'd tell you:

It's true! I has a horrid, icky mommy and she had the audacity to perform numerous atrocities against me ALL IN ONE DAY and for what?! Nothing more than doggy hygiene. And because (she CLAIMS) I was stinky. Very, very stinky.

Nope, that horrid bitch wasn't content to just DESHED me (which she'll claim I should have LIKED because I've been ichy recently. DON'T SUCCUMB TO HER LIES!), she had to go and brush my teeth. Sure, that might not have been so bad because the doggy toothpaste tasted like vanilla, but IT'S THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING. But, I'm an amicable dog. I was prepared to let it go at that. But then... oh, but then. Daddy (he who is my shining light and savior and favorite-est person in the whole of the wide, wide world), daddy was gone away without mommy (as if she even deserves that title anymore). It was just me and then wench. Oh, she pretended like it was any other night, cooking smells-better-than-the-crap-they-feed-me dinner and watching TV. She was just doing it to lure me into a false sense of security until, all the sudden, she pounced! She snatched my poor, helpless self off the couch and plopped us into the tub where she CLOSED US IN. And then... and then that MONSTER turned on the water.

Now this next part, this next part is when it gets hard for me to speak because that bitch, she violated me. She doused my glorious fur in water and scrubbed me all over. She touched EVERYWHERE. Fur that it had taken me MONTHS of hard, long labor and effort to get smelling so ripe, she washed it all down the drain with some suds and a cheap plastic cup full of water.

And then, finally, after what seemed like hours upon hours of torture, she finally released me from my white prison... only to CONTINUE to pin me in to bathroom. I swear to you, as daddy is my witness, I did my best to discourage her by shaking myself until not a single surface in that blasted room remained dry, but she was not to be daunted. She came at me then with that damned towel and she rubbed me. She rubbed me all over. And I'll confess. It may have been that that my superior doggy mind truly snapped from her cruel water torture because as soon as she opened the door, I scurried away, slipping and sliding all over the hardwood floor. And when she was preoccupied drying up the bathroom floor, I got her back by peeing on the area rug.

It was much longer until my savior and light came home and do you know what that evil, wicked mommy did then?! She tattled on me, as if poor, tormented me was the one to blame! Luckily daddy saw through her twisted manipulations and just laughed at her.

So here I am before you, traumatized by the whole ordeal, barely able to function, struggling to eat (maybe a wee bit of an exaggeration) but I will admit. One good thing did come out of all of this. After daddy laughed at mommy, she let me, poor and damp though I was, lay on his side of the bed while he was downstairs eating dinner.

THE END.