Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Rub-a-dub-dub...Bishop in the tub!

I survived Christmas day. My foster home was so full of people and dogs that I considered placing myself up for a foster-foster home! Those two female dogs in this family are so prissy and annoying. They don't want to play with me. They just want to sit in someones lap and ignore me.

Thankfully Santa didn't ignore me. I had toys and chew bones in my stocking. But the most fun was the wrapping paper and ribbons...and boxes! So much to choose from! Making a mess is so much fun!

But Christmas is over. They tree is gone, the lights are no longer blinking everywhere, and (best of all) there is more room in my house for me to run around! My Aunt Bonni really thought I was cute, but I didn't impress Aunt Brooke at all. (But then, what doggie does?) All I know is that I am here in my foster house where my Mommy loves me very much and it is very peaceful and quiet.

Mommy did, however, make me question her love when she threw me in the bathtub for a good scrubbing! I thought the bubbles were quite interesting until I tasted one. Believe me. They are ONLY for looks! Mom had the hardest time getting me wet and said I was like a duck! When she finally got me soaked down, I decided to soak her down, too....and I did a very good job of it. Then I soaked the bathroom down. I also found out that I could shake real hard and make those bubbles stick to the wall! It became quite a game, and I am proud to say that I won!

Mommy finally made all the bubbles disappear (it seemed to take forever!) and she let me get out of the tub. I shook...and shook...and shook....and shook! Then came that very embarrassing moment. She wrapped me in a hooded towel! Who ever thought of putting a hat on top of a towel was nuts! I couldn't keep it on my head and spent half the time trying to see out from under it. Mommy laughed. I didn't. When the towel didn't work, she got out this gun that blows air (thankfully not bullets!) and started shooting at me. I tried to escape, but how far can you run in a bathroom with the door shut. No matter where I turned, she would shoot me with a blast of hot air on whatever was sticking out in her direction. She got me on my head, on my back, on my bottom, and even on my tummy. Slowly...very slowly....my hair dried.

But all is well now. I am clean, brushed, fluffy and very content to be laying on my sheepskin rug snuggled up in the living room eating a chewy treat while Mommy and Dad watch CSI Miami. I think I might ask one of those detectives to investigate why my mom gave me a bath tonight so that I can try to avoid one in the future! Maybe I liked it when I was a baby, but baths and little boys just don't go together.

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