Rufus knows the drill. We pull up to the vet clinic/dog wash and he immediately tries to “cute” his way out of the inevitable. Jumping around, giving me kisses (he is not a licker, so this is actually totally out of character), becoming super playful and pulling on his leash in the opposite direction of the building. It’s freaking adorable, really.
But guess what, buddy? A clean dog trumps a cute, shedding, grimy one. Game on!
Once he’s in the tub, he’s actually a perfect gentleman. He takes it like a man. A pathetically miserable man, but still. My little champion.
Same with the blowdryer. Once in awhile, he’ll get feisty and jump off the table but that’s about it. He’ll hop right back up for me and wait for the wind tunnel torture to be over.
Bless his clean and shiny little heart.
He very much prefers the “air dry” method.