I was reading the latest rant from Rachel Lucas and her warning to her dog Sunny about her upcoming bath reminded me of the dog we used to have when I was growing up.

Her name was Missy, which came about as a weird variant of “Messy” (which we called her because of the deworming she’d had before we got her from the shelter as a puppy). 

This dog had the habit of going into the nearby pasture and rolling around in cow manure.  Then she’d come home and rub up against you.  You wouldn’t realize you’d been “tagged” until you noticed the smell.  She also had a pathological hatred of baths, to the point that the mere mention of the word would send her into hiding.  I’d have to drag her out from under the table and carry her to get a bath.

I miss having a dog.