I noticed last night that Digby has developed a certain odour and fear that he is facing the early onset of what would once have been described in hushed tones as 'gentlemans problems'. We were all up bright and early so decided to use the opportunity of the cool weather to take the two troubadors down to the car wash to try out the automated dog washing machine . Over breakfast I outlined my plan for odour removal to the 'font' who didn't reply but looked at me with that half pitying half horrified look that those directly involved with lunancy develop as a defence mechanism.
The car wash when we got there just before six was empty and the temperature was a still bearable 25 degrees. Carefully parking the car in the shade , I read and then re-read the instructions on the machine, studiously noted where all the dials and equipment for washing, shampooing , rinsing and drying were located and ran through the steps that would be needed to remove one dog at a time from the back of the car. It all seemed so simple - place the dog on the conveyor belt, turn the dial to position 1 to activate the conveyor, turn dial to position 2 to halt the conveyor, turn dial to 3 to wash, repeat using shampoo with dial at position 4, turn dial to position 5 for rinsing, dial 6 for hair drying and so on. Having just bought the tokens for the machine and in the midst of congratulating myself on my prescience when,on the dot of six , half a dozen cars en route to the seaside arrived - full of children with radios blaring . The two boyz who had been sitting contentedly and placidly in the back of the car were suddenly surrounded by a hoarde of Italian children tapping on the window, screaming loudly, gesticulating wildly and generally causing mayhem while their fathers lazily sprayed the hubcaps of their FIAT's. Suffice it to say that Digby did not take this attention calmly. The automatic dog washing will be left to another day. The boyz are now down by the pool playing the 'splosh' game to their hearts content.