Wascha Mischa (original) (raw)
March 17 2010, 20:58
Dear 
Mischa,
You know that I love you. My colleagues laugh at me occasionally because I have pictures of you all over the place, and talk more about you than I do about my relations or akeela. Although it turns out that I'm apparently not alone in missing you more than my mate. Anyway.
My dear dog, I was thinking about you today. In the three years you've deigned to live with us, we've never bathed you—not once. Your fur's beautifully self-cleaning, and for years you never grew noticeably dirty. But these past few months, I've noticed my hands were grubby after petting you, even though you still smell beautifully sweet and mild, and your fur looks impeccable when it gets a bit of grooming.
So, dearly loved dog, it might become necessary to wash you. I hate to say that, because I know how much you hate being put in water—you hate it passionately and viscerally, with a bitterness that's reserved for sled-dogs and the rabid. But it might just become necessary. So I was charmed by this article that avon_deer linked to, about dog-washing machines in Japan.
You're a bit too enormous to go in one of the current models, but as soon as I find one big enough to take you, I promise you the pleasure of sitting in one of them through its thirty-five minute cycle. And afterwards you'll be a beautifully clean dog once again.
Love,
me.