I’m in a pet show on the interwebs!

A nice human friend of No. 1’s, who lives in a place called Bunny Hill, put up lots of pictures of dogs and Klingons and other animals. No. 1 decided to send her a picture of me, and which one does she choose? Me after a bath.

Now that is not my finest hour, bath time. In fact, baths should be banned. There’s no reason to be stuck in the sink, wet down, lathered up, massaged, then rinsed endlessly, just when I’ve built up a good doggy patina. Yet the humans insist on carrying out this barbaric ritual every so often (read way too often). They do give me cheese, but this is only a sop to the indignity. After the bath I’m wet and cold and I run around the house like a wild creature, so No. 1 swaddles me up in No. 2’s old bathrobe. The humans find this hilarious so they decided to take a picture of me in my reduced capacity.

Couldn’t she have sent the bunny lady a picture of me standing atop a green mountainside with the wind blowing through my luxurious fringes? Running across a flowered meadow? Bravely defending humans from a savage cougar?

No, she sends the bath picture.

Willie after bath

Oh well, at least it’s my 15 minutes of fame.


Edited: August 15th, 2010