Christmas Bath

I took my dog, Duke, to the self-serve dog wash, located in my neighborhood pet store, a week before Christmas. I wanted him to smell good, or at least better than he currently smelled, for the holidays.

Duke entered the store giddily. He loves pet stores because he can sniff every product, and attempt to free the caged animals.

However, as soon as I led him through the door to the dog-washing area, his attitude changed radically. He sprawled out on the floor in front of the tubs and refused to get up. After cajoling and begging him to stand up, he finally did. I walked him over to a walk-in tub and tried to get him to step up and into the tub. He pulled hard on his leash, resisting the tub with all of his strength. I then tried the other tub, which was higher up but had steps to get into it. He took one look at those narrow steps and dropped like a dead weight to the floor.

There was no way I could lift him. He’s 140 pounds and very long. He knew he had the advantage. He spread out on the floor and refused to budge. Finally, I opened the door that leads out of the dog-washing area and he jumped up and bolted out.

I had no option but to make an appointment with the groomer who was stationed to the right of the self-serve dog wash.

On the way out of the store, Duke grabbed a stuffed squeaky toy from a bin near the floor. He decided it was the best toy he had ever seen in his life, and he would not part with it. He sat on the floor by the register and proceeded to slobber all over the toy. Every time I reached down to take it from him — it was firmly lodged between his teeth — he uttered a gutteral growl. That growl is a warning that if I go near his possession, he will take my hand off.

For a sweet, gentle, loveable dog, he is fiercely protective of his food, tissues, napkins, and toys. If it’s in his mouth, or even in the vicinity of his mouth, anyone who knows him knows not to go near him. I think he learned this behavior in the shelter I adopted him from. Or, maybe he was in the shelter because of this behavior.

The cashier witnessed the growling when I tried to get the toy from Duke so it could be scanned. There was no way either of us was going to take it from him. The cashier wound up going to the toy section and finding the same stuffed animal so he could ring it up.

After I paid, Duke refused to get up off the floor. I had to drag him by the neck out of the store. As soon as we got to the exit, he stood up and ran outside … without his toy.

“Oh no you don’t,” I told him. “You are going to play with this toy now that you’ve humiliated me.” I put him and his toy into the backseat and returned to the store to buy a new leash, since his current leash was held together by knots.

Of course, Duke and I were the topic of conversation between the cashiers. “That dog needs to be trained,” my cashier said to a coworker. “She spoils him. That’s why he’s that way.” I interrupted their conversation, with an innocent smile, and asked where the leashes were.

“Oh, hello again!” my cashier said to me with a fake bright smile. He pointed to the aisle with the leashes.

I’m looking forward to our next adventure there next week, when I take him to the groomer. I’ll be stopping off in the muzzle aisle first, though. I need to get one for Duke … and one for the cashier.