The Bath

The weekend was good. Friday was an Isotopes game and we got free glow in the dark baseballs. Very cool. We also went to the game with our friends Ryan and Shea who are really really cool and it's nice to finally have a couple friend that we do things with fairly regularly. It's taken us a long time to become friends with them, but we really have a good time together. Maybe they'll be the Christina and Bobby of Albuquerque... (but never a Christina and Bobby replacement).

On Saturday, we took the dogs to visit my parents and grandma for an early mother's day. It was nice and relaxing, except for the 45 minutes during which my 6lb dogs decided it would be really fun to take on my parents' 75lb lab. They were so mean to him and he just put his tail between his legs because he didn't want to hurt them. My dad kept calling Wiley and Barbie terrorists and telling me that my "furry brother's" feelings were hurt, which made me feel sufficiently guilty.

Yesterday was a typical slow Sunday. Neil and I went to lunch and the server gave me a Mother's Day carnation...I didn't know if I should have taken it as a compliment or as an insult so I just took the flower home and put it in water.

Last night, I decided that the dogs needed a bath. After calling all over town and learning that groomers require you to leave your dog for four hours just for a bath and brushing, I determined that I would have to do it myself, so I went to Petsmart and bought shampoo for white dogs. Around nine I was finally finished with everything else I needed to do and I took the dogs in the bathroom with me, filled up the tub and did the bathing. First of all, the dogs looked like skinny rats when wet. Their hair went from white to see-through and their pink and brown spotted skin looked hilarious. In addition to looking funny, they were pissed. Also, I had no idea what I was doing. I read the grooming section in the Maltese magazine I bought a few weeks ago and tried following instructions, but it was a joke. Wiley jumped out of the tub at one point and shook all over the bathroom. I just sat there wondering what the hell I was doing with two dogs and furthermore, what possessed me to try to wash them. But once we got all the shampoo rinsed out and the two dogs started to dry off and forgive me for the ordeal, they turned into little white fluff balls. Their fur turned at least three shades lighter and four times fluffier. They must have been filthy. With their new clean coconut-scented coats, came really cheery attitudes and they started chasing me all over the house and jumping up and down. Then, magically, Wiley suddenly learned how to fetch the miniature tennis balls we got them a month ago. I had no idea how much joy watching a little dog learn to play catch could bring... or bathing a dog for that matter.

So the question is: Is my mothering instinct kicking in? Answer: maybe a little bit, but only for the dogs. No kids yet. I'm still a little too selfish for the next step.