Monday, August 23, 2010

Shampoo

T'other half's here for a week's holiday. Well, I use the term 'holiday' loosely. Poor lassie spends most of her time cleaning, hoovering and washing whenever she comes out here. Rushes around like a mad thing. Something I never do. Disturbs the dust and dog hairs.

State of the dogs' beds appalls her. Always full of dirt and hairs. Although I shake 'em out about once a week, it never seems to make much difference. Still, that's what you get with country dogs. And I'm not much good at grooming either. Pick and pull the odd twig or ten out of Jock the Westie's coat now and again, and occasionally scissor out a few bits of matted fur. But (guilt) I rarely brush and comb. However, I do occasionally shampoo the brute but it's a tricky exercise doing it on your own. Luckily Sprocket's coat is a lot more wiry so it never gets matted.

The other problem with Jocky's fur (not with Sprock's though) is that it grows at an alarming rate. Tried trimming it with one of those electric dog shavers a few years back but without much success. Damned dog kept running away. So attacked him with scissors. Bit more successful but I ain't no barber so he ended up looking a right mess. I now take him to the pricey poodle parlour at Aubusson whenever he needs a haircut. Needs one at the moment but he's filthy. Ever seen a grey Westie? Or a green one when he's been rolling? Not a pretty sight.

Georgie and I decided to give him a pre-poodle parlour visit shampoo down the stream. Thought it would lessen the hairdresser madame's shock at seeing a non-typical Westie. She's a sensitive soul. Totally unused to proper blokes' dogs. Nearly had a fit last year when she discovered a tick on his tum.

Drove down to the stream 'run', parked up, had a bit of a walk along the forest path with angled shafts of sunlight stabbing through the trees, then headed to the stream clutching a couple of old dog shampoo bottles. Managed to grab Jock as he paddled in the stream and squirted some shampoo on his back. Smelling it, he immediately ran off and started rolling in the grass. Ordered him back. No chance. Least disciplined Westie on the planet. Eventually got hold of the blighter again and dragged him back to the stream.

I/we normally shampoo the miserable little wretch at home with buckets of warm water. But, despite it being a warm summer's late afternoon, the stream water was freezing cold. And he was getting drenched in the stuff. Didn't like it one bit. Started shivering towards the end. But soon the ordeal was over and he ran out of the stream's shadows back into the sunshine of the field. Started rolling in the grass to dry off. Amazing transformation. White again. Thought of doing Sprock but decided against it. My shorts, shoes and feet were soaking. We'll do him later, back at home.

Would have taken some snaps of the exercise but neither of us had hands free to operate the camera. Took a couple of the forest and stream though. Lovely bit of lighting. All very pretty. And besides, Jock hates having his photo taken almost as much as he hates being shampooed. (Have added an old photo of Jock just to show how dirty he gets.)

Ah well, next thing to do is to book him into the poodle parlour. Another thing he hates.



2 comments:

  1. What is it they say - ' woman's work is never done' Oh well at least the dogs are cleaner. Diane

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  2. Absolutely understand where you are coming from in regards your Westie - Gus was a shiny, pristine, bright chestnut coloured Cocker when he arrived. Must have been kept indoors, because within a week or so he became ragged, and stayed so ever since. Goes swimming in puddles, streams, ditches and rivers. Sometimes comes out quite clean, most times not. And even if he is clean he will then find something dreadfully smelly to roll in. However: he is a very happy doggy when he is mucky, and I suspect so is your Westie!

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