back down, flailing legs facing skyward.
I saw the slick on her back
and smelled the evidence a mile away.
A transfer of "rotten dead thing" to a dog's back.
Disgusting.
She knows that she's in line for a bath
when the front door remains closed and I head inside
without her, she tries to run away
knowing it's useless.
We go at it with shampoo and buckets of water
but the stench remains.
I'd rather spend my time catching up on the
news and having breakfast.
It's a pass off to S.
His turn now.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment