The Owner’s Side

Dear reader, picture this: It’s a sweltering summer day, the kind where the sun seems to burn with an almost personal vendetta. Now, Rufus, my Saint Bernard, had spent the morning rolling around the garden, the mud seemingly providing a cool retreat from the glaring sun.

While this was charming in a nature documentary kind of way, Rufus, usually a beautiful shade of white and brown, had morphed into a creature that resembled a mud pie with eyes. So, I made a decision, one that seemed perfectly reasonable, nay, inevitable. It was time for… a bath. Rufus has always famously hated baths, but I figured the hot day might make a cool bath particularly attractive.

I filled the old kiddie pool we kept for his bath times, lugged over his favorite rubber ducky, and even laced the water with some dog-friendly bath salts (lavender, they said it was calming). I opened the backdoor, whistled, and out he came from the bushes, looking pleased as punch. But then he saw the pool, the water glistening ominously in the afternoon sun. His ears drooped, the wag dropped out of his tail, and he looked up at me with a betrayal that cut through my heart.

I did it anyway, picturing clean floors, the scent of lavender wafting off his fluffy coat. He wasn’t overtly upset, but the joy had vanished from his eyes – he was resigned, defeated. He lumbered away afterward, casting one last reproachful glance behind him: the image of a broken dog who’d been left to soak in lukewarm betrayal.

Rufus Remonstrates

Human, what have you DONE? It’s an amazing day. The sun is BAKING! I’ve turned into a MASTER OF MUD! Have you felt the JOY of cool mud on your belly? I bet you haven’t.

You called me with that tone—the tone that promises treats or a walk. I showed up ready for ADVENTURE. And what do I see? A pool filled with WATER. Do you EVEN remember the last bath incident? I thought we agreed, no more SURPRISE baths!

You said “Rufus! Bath time!” You threw my ducky in. DUPLICATE BETRAYAL! Tuckered out from the frolicking and slightly hopeful that maybe, just maybe, this bath wouldn’t be as miserable, I submitted. Did you see what it COST me? Did you notice my TAIL?

I splashed. I obeyed like the GOOD BOY I am. The water got rid of my GLORIOUS MUD PROTECTION. You scrubbed behind my ears as I STARED into the distance, questioning my faith in humanity.

Sweet Redemption

After Rufus’ damp departure, guilt washed over me. I had prepared for whining, I had prepared for a tug-o-war, but the silence… oh, the silence was unbearable. I couldn’t handle the silent treatment… or the puddles of water and clumps of hair left strewn around the house.

That’s when I remembered The Hungry Puppy was open. Armed with hope and regret, I drove over and picked out Rufus’ favorite — the Sportsman’s Pride FieldMaster advanced formula, a dry food especially good for active dogs. If anything could refresh his spirit and energy, it was this.

The moment I opened that bag back home, Rufus came bounding in, his nose twitching and tail wagging uncontrollably. He gobbled down his meal hungrily. I could see it in his eyes, his faith in humanity (or maybe just me) slowly creeping back.

Finally, he nestled into my side, his big brown eyes now glistening with forgiveness rather than hurt. As we settled into our usual evening routine, I could see the ordeal had been forgotten, replaced by the joy that only top-tier dog food can bring.

Crisis averted. Doggie Spa Day now declared a national holiday in Rufus’ calendar. Dog no longer hates me (until the next bath time, at least).

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