3pm

What is it about animals wanting to cavort in mounds of dirt and fly infested swamps?
Case in point the dog at my in laws.

Seizing the welcome opportunity of ceaseless commotion wrought on due to festive season the dog found himself within short distance of open grounds, what with the gates left open to let in a small army of guests and well wishers, there was no one on watch or vigilant enough to stay alert to the dog's sudden disappearance.
The dog had quietly sauntered out of the house, through the open gates of the driveway and made his way out.

It was only when moi was serving water and snacks that I noticed the absence of the dog who was suspiciously serene while sleeping in a corner and casting a glance across the gallery towards the gated entry I did a wee gasp at the wide open stance of the large gates.

Dear oh dear! The dog, I knew had made out.
I ran outside to throw a furtive glance in panoramic vision when I saw the white mongrel looking like a live action version of Oreo cookies somewhere in the distance.
The goodamn flea bag has apparently pranced about and frolicked in stale swamps leftover by the rains of days past and so blackened out of its wits was that swamp that it lent this little dog of Lhasa spitz ancestry a coat of black and white chess board.

Double gasp!
To launch myself like a torpedo in the canine's direction was a thing of the moment, and catching a familiar face running towards him the little ass ran in the opposite direction, and gods oh gods I saw the dog besmirched in a thick layer of black gunk right up to his belly and wondered aloud as to who was going to be tasked with cleaning up this mutt.

Running like the wind that I am, I'd quickly closed the distance between us and a far reaching grab enabled me to catch the dog. Finally!!

This was the least of the difficulties because now I was faced with the incongruous task of washing the blighter, nay, hosing him down and scrubbing god knows what off him.

Armed with a shampoo and a pipe throwing water full force I ended up bathing nearly as much since this particular dog wasn't interested in bathing, a lesson I learnt the hard way .
Tugging at his leash, pulling at his face, I'd found myself bent in odd ways, lunging to find his blackened limbs that I scrubbed away with shampoo, rolling him on his back to clean his belly and the works.
Finally! The dog was back to his original colour and a good rub down with the towel I left him to dry under the sun.

Making a backdoor entry so as to avoid any attention towards my wet self I successfully found myself sloshing about under a shower and now the big deed is done.

Phew, if I might say so myself.