the annual dog bath

Here in the mountains, where I am fortunate enough to spend my summers, the various stinky animal wastes lie deep. Yesterday as we hiked up to Indian Lake, a stunning trail that eventually leads to La Jicarita, there were fresh piles of cow poop. Nicely moist and glowing in the sun. Not that I was noticing...it was Walter. He reveled in the poops by rubbing, rolling, scratching , tasting...and eventually covering himself with green grassy poop. By the time we got back to the car, his usually black fur was matted with grassy tangles of poop. He shook and poop flew off....

So...this called for the annual bath. Yes, we love our pets deeply, but can't summon the mutual strength to bathe them except in dire situations , like the aforementioned.