An Apology to My Dirty Dog

I know the feeling of being freshly clean. Your skin tingles as it readjusts from a battery of water droplets hurled at its surface for 5 minutes, each warm enough to activate sensors and send notices around the network. The dingy and sticky you come with is left behind to join its counterparts in the grey water.

I wouldn’t let my children forget to bathe. They smell worse as sweat and food and environment happens. Private parts can become sickened, folds in skin can get irritated, and you are left with an overall feeling of uncomfortable grossness. Your skin starts to rebel, protesting for better working conditions.

And so I offer this apology, dog, to you who I have not washed in months. I can provide the file of excuses, but quite honestly I should be a better friend. Sometimes, your lack of self-reliance and opposable thumbs escape me. I will try to do better on your behalf.

By the way, I’m not coming home until really late and will likely crash from sleepiness. We’ll start tomorrow.

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