today

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All the flowers in our bouquet from the vet are finished.

I don't know what sort of leaves these are, but they seem pretty happy. I think the buds may even be growing....





Wilbur didn't mind that I threw out dead flowers, but the rest of the day's activities, so far, have pretty much sucked.

First there was this.





Then, radically worse, there was this.





I am not big on washing dogs, unless they get into something. I know I gave Wilbur a bath when he first arrived here, and I think maybe one other. I'm not sure. In any case, he hasn't been in the bathtub in years and years.

He reports today was WAY too soon.

He is not a stinky dog. Well, at least if it's been a good long time since the last time he encountered one of those black and white stripe-backed "kitties" in the back yard, he's not a stinky dog.

He has more doggy smell than a corgi (who always have smelled like "fur" to me, rather than like "dog"). Enough so that, off and on over the years, I have thought "I should wash him" but not enough so that I have actually *done* it.

He is a sheddin' dog. Tufts and clumps of his insulating undercoat. He did some moulting in April, and now he's doing it again.

I had hoped we could leave most of it in the tub, but ... no. Alas.

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