Damnit - she bathed me again

Its just not fair. The weather is hot, and I was all panty and tired after going for a walk. I nipped next door on Friday for a bit of shut-eye, and next minute . . she's calling me. "Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack". I know that voice. That voice does not mean "I love you" or "come here I have a treat for you". THAT voice means only one thing. B..A..T..H. Oh yeah, they think if they spell it out to each other, I don't know what they're saying. But I do !
Bath. Brrrrrrrrrrr, the very word makes me shiver. Like "vets" or "vegetables".
Then AS has to be all 'helpful', and lures me out of the house with cocktail sausages. Not quite a 'carrot and stick' approach, more 'meat based treats and ever-hungry dog'. But it worked, I'm embarrassed to say it, but it did.
Luckily Mummy was quite kind, and bathed me in the garden, by throwing water over me and unceremoniously shampooing and rinsing me off quickly. But it beats being forced to actually go in the bath. I hate that. I can cope with the 'garden-bath' . . just.

Mummy made up some blurb about looking and smelling lovely for the 'girls' on Saturday evening. I don't know if she remembers, butI don't care about girl-dogs. My doggy bits are long gone. (is it any wonder I have issues?).
Oh, hang on.. . . maybe she means the human-girls that are coming round for beer and BBQ !! Aaaah, that makes sense. Oh, that's ok then. I'm happy about that. I've learnt that I get much more fuss (read 'fuss' but mean 'food') if I smell nicely.
Women are sooooooooooo shallow.

I'm quite looking forward to Saturday now....... yeah,this might be good.