The other day, my bride decided it was time to give the members of the pack (comprising our three Shelties and one Collie) baths. As with most dogs, they collectively hate this indignity as it's bestowed upon them. But, with the dog days of summer now here (I simply coudn't resist that one!), the pups are shedding their coats and everything we own is starting to be covered in dog hair. So, it was into the bathroom, into the tub and scrub, scrub, scrub.

The Shelties (Lily, Lyric and Declan) are basically easier to handle because of their smaller statures. When they don't do what they're told, they can simply be lifted up and placed in the position, area or situation you desired. This is tempered, however, by the fact that we've noticed this group seems to be putting on a little weight. Seems one of the owners (ahem!) is feeding the pack from the table as I eat my dinner during meals. Then, there's Dougie.

Douglas is the one-year old Collie that's the last member of our pack. He's easily three times the height and weight of the Shelties, so that makes him a whole lot harder to maneuver into the bathroom & tub. Since the Shelties weigh about 22-25 lbs., you can do the math & see why he's so much more difficult to handle.

And, a small confession to make. All baths are administered by my bride, so the information I'm conveying on to you is second-hand. But stories of her epic struggles with the pack at bath time are fast becoming family lore and simply must be memorialized for posterity. We sit in rapt attention, hanging on her every word as she relays her tales of wonder and awe. We're so grossly involved with her tales that we expect to hear that she had to fend off Poseidon with one hand, hold onto a dog with the other and rinse soap off a now squeaky clean coat with yet another.

And you may ask where am I while these battles are occurring? Usually I'm holding down the TV remote so it doesn't disappear, as its been known to do so often in our house. After all, someone's gotta do it.