Sunday, February 3, 2008

Water Torture

The Mistress decided we stink.

By we, I of course mean Mocha, Reilly and myself.

And while I agree the other two have most certainly reached the point of risking arrest for odifferious offenses, I on the other hand, am as fresh and pleasant scented as a new born puppy.

My Mistress, however felt otherwise and so carted Reilly and myself upstairs to a place she calls the bathroom where she proceeded to heave us, one at a time, into a long rectangular box upon which was attached a hose like device from which water mysteriously sprayed.

Apparently, because of his size and the sheer density of hair, she tortured Reilly for an hour and a half. Me, not so long.

She had to wait for the Tim to return before attempting to subject Mocha to this hideously embarrassing ritual. Even though she is very docile, Mocha can be quite uncooperative when faced with something she dislikes - such as having her bear like toe nails trimmed.

As a result, the Mistress needed the Tim's help containing Mocha in the box which even though neither Reilly nor myself were allowed to witness, was I am sure an interesting sight. You see, the Tim has been functioning with one arm since his disc issues reappeared a couple of weeks ago.

He looks like a freak walking around with one arm hanging there like some menthol smelling, limp chew toy.

At any rate, we're all supposedly clean now - except for Creepy who is 150 years old in human years, blind as a bat, can barely hear and craps 24 / 7.

The Mistress is afraid the ensuing trauma of water torture might hasten her demise - and she's probably right.

The Tim suggested spraying her with Febreze - what ever that is.

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