You have only to speak her name and her tail begins to wag joyfully. Her brown eyes radiate love and trust and she is relentlessly happy whether dancing around on her back legs or burrowing into the small spaces between you and the blankets. She loves life outright and with a passion and is an immeasurable comfort, asking nothing but affection and a warm place to sleep. Of all the dogs I have known, she is the sweetest and most faithful and she wins hearts wherever she goes.
It is with great reluctance that I carry her to the kitchen sink. The towel and shampoo are laid out on the counter and the water is running and she knows what lies ahead. She looks at me with broken hearted, betrayed eyes but she doesn't struggle, instead she begins to tremble. I talk to her softly as I pour warm water over her shivering little body and lather her with suds, rinse and repeat the process. She shakes as if she might actually break as I wrap her in a towel and begin to dry her off and those eyes look at me with huge sorrow and disappointment. A minute or two with the hair dryer, some gentle combing, and she's done.
She races for her corner of the couch and her heating pad and the bath is instantly forgotten just as I am instantly forgiven.
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