Bathing Rose

I love giving Rose baths!! It is relaxing and soothing to me somehow!! Seriously!! I cannot explain it.... Giving Rose baths is work. Back-bending work. Plus, she does not care for baths all that much!! Typical dog.... Once Rose knows for certain that I will be scrubbing her clean, she runs from me!! Yep. Runs!! In the direction of "our" bed!! This always makes me smile!! She is my little fugitive.... However, as soon as I have Rose in the "boy's bathroom" tub, with lukewarm water running, and her dog shampoo ready, doing this task seems serene!! Honestly!! Rose is really quite cooperative--for the most part--once I place her into our bathtub!! That's right. Cooperative!! She just stands there, nearly stock-still, allowing my sudsy fingers to gently massage her body!! Imagine that.... No trembling, zero "protests", no cowering. My youngest brother--Uncle Michael to Rose--helps me. I literally cannot do it without him!! Like Tim Taylor and Al Borland from TV's "Home Improvement", Uncle Michael assists me!! In other words, he does all of the work!! Uncle Michael fetches three large towels. He finds Rose's dog shampoo. Uncle Michael places our plastic hair drain catcher in the bathtub. He certainly is a diligent "doer".... With an incredible memory, unlike me!! Uncle Michael even turns on the bathtub faucet!! But I pick up a reluctant Rose. I place her into our bathtub. I scrub Rose clean. I hose her off!! See? The two of us are perfect partners!! Because Rose highly disproves of her bath time, Uncle Michael and I sing. Any sort of song. Christmas carols. Praise and worship songs. Oldies. Country music songs. She loves it when we sing to her!! Doing so calms Rose's nerves, thus also relaxes me in the process!! Score!! The other day, I was scrubbing some Country Apple-scented dog shampoo into Rose's velvet-soft fur. Uncle Michael and I were each taking turns choosing songs. Rose was apparently one dirty dog, as grime and crud fell freely off of her body!! Disgusting!! Unless she rolls in raccoon scat, which was not the case, visible dirt never washes off of her!! Occasionally, I will drown a flea or two. But other than that.... So here I was, sitting on the edge of our bathtub, singing quietly, along with Uncle Michael, scrubbing Rose, nothing but my bare feet touching its waters. Everything seemed perfect....When, suddenly, sans any warning, the water temperature drastically changed!! From lukewarm, to.... Hot!! "Whoa, whoa, whoa!!" I screamed. "It's hot!! It's hot!!" Then I commanded Uncle Michael: "Turn it off!! Turn the water off!! It's hot!! It's hot!! It's hot!! Turn it off!! Turn it off!! Turn it off!!" I could feel the steaming water's burn on my feet.... Could Rose, too? Uncle Michael turned off our faucet, as he was told. With slimy, sudsy shampoo still clung to Rose's right thigh, I asked Uncle Michael to find out what just happened. Had somebody started the washing machine? This causes a drastic change in our water's temperature, one way or another. No. Somebody flushed the half bath toilet!! Oops. Our water in the "boy's bathroom" and half bath are, for some reason, connected!! Very, very, very connected. It is easy to forget when someone is in the bathtub!! I then regained my composure after looking at Rose's confused face. What's going on? She seemed to ask. Why are you yelling, Mama? Did I do something wrong? Why is the water turned off? Are we done? Finally, I apologized to Rose, several times. Uncle Michael turned the water back on. We resumed our singing. Within seconds, Rose was hosed off, clean, and her paw pads were unaffected!!