'Anybody who doesn't know what soap tastes like never washed a dog' -F.P. Jones
The word B-A-T-H is never uttered aloud in our home, it is only spelled. Failure to comply with this rule causes Maisy to leap up (sometimes out of a sound sleep) bolt up the stairs, jump on the bed & remain as still as a statue in an effort to camouflage herself on the brightly colored comforter until the coast is clear.
This plan to run up the stairs to the level of the house where 'bathing offenses' occur & to jump on the bed instead of hiding under it further illustrate my point: it is a good thing my sweet rescue dog has her looks going for her. I still love her. She forgives me my short-comings; it's only reasonable that I return the favor. With a face like this, how could I not?