March 11, 2008 at 6:00 am (Jumbled Jabbering)
The constant whir of the blow-dryers competing with barking that could wake the dead reminds me of my fluorescent orange earplugs tucked in my pocket. I slip open the metal bolt behind the gate and click it shut immediately behind me for fear of losing a canine client who wishes nothing better than to escape this noisy, scary place. That’s the start of my Saturday morning, but it doesn’t compare to that of the four-legged kind:
The clanging of the chain and my alpha putting on his coat means walkie time. Woo Hoo!!! I’m sooooo excited… Walk?
Hey, wait a minute, aren’t we goin–uh, — a truck ride? WOW! This must be my lucky day! This is soooo much fun! Okay, we’re stopped now. A walk in the park, maybe?
Hey, where’re we goin’? I don’t want to go through that glass door. Oh, but wait, strange smells are wafting through the open door. Hang on, I’m a comin’.
Yikes, it’s so noisy in here. What the hell’s goin’ on? Who are all these other mutts starin’ at? I’ll show them! Let me go! Let me go! Get this stupid leash off me. Wait, where’re you goin’? Why are you leaving me here with this stranger? Heeeyyyy…Come back!
Oh no, what’s going on? Oh no…here it comes…Splishhhh. The water’s on me now, and this stranger keeps rubbing my butt like there’s no tomorrow. What the hell man? Stop it will ya? Geez. Get this gooey white stuff off me will ya? Uh oh…here comes the water again. Shut that off, will ya? Even with all this shaking I’m not getting any dryer. Shut it off! I’m being attacked! Oh…oh….there go my bowels. Ahhhh…. At least that smells better than anything else in this place.
Finally, that stupid stranger is turning off the water. It’s about time. Oh, I hear the door open, is it him? Did he come back to rescue me? Eh? Eh? … Hey you, come back here, I’m sitting here soaked to the bone…never mind that idiot poodle that just came in…Come back here!
Hey! What d’ya think you’re doing? Leave me alone! Whoaaa… Put me on the floor already, not on this stupid table.
—Hey!— The view’s different from up here!— I’m the alpha now! —
Yikes, where’s that gush of noisy air coming from? Get this air away from me. It’s too windy in here. Hey, get your hands off of me! Just let me down!
Alright, alright…I might as well just put up with it. I don’t have a choice in the matter, now do I? Sheesh…this is taking way too long. I’m dry, so let me go now will ya? Finally, the idiot turns off the airstorm. It’s about time.
Hey, quit tugging at my coat will ya? It won’t come off no matter how hard you try. Hey, leave my butt alone! GGgrrr! I don’t want to look pretty; just let me roll in the mud to scratch my back, and I’ll jump into the pond on the trail to wash it all off. That’s good enough for me.
They might call ‘em spas in Vancouver, but the name is only for the benefit of two-legged kind, as there’s no such thing as a spa for canines, except on the lap of their owners, or along a wooden trail. Call it what you will, few dogs like to be poked and prodded for any length of time by a stranger, even if it is for their benefit like cutting their nails, washing out dirt, or getting a hair-cut.