My wife and I recently went on vacation with the dogs. Five nights in a cabin at the end of the continent, in a little town called Ucluelet. For the few of you who haven’t heard of it yet have been to Tofino, just turn left instead of right at the ocean.
Five nights means six days. Six days of wet, salty dogs. Ocean water. Sand. Mud. Not only were they covered in all of that, they ingested it as well. So of course they puked and all that. Sure we quickly bathed them each and everyday with shampoo and the cold water from the hose while they danced and spun at the end of their leashes like a schizophrenic bouncy balloon things. Remember those? Then they would run in and lay by the fire all night.
No matter what, they were just never fully clean. Rain would fall from the sky everyday and make sure they would get a little bit of tacky dirt or sand stuck to them. There was a seemingly never ending supply of new and gross things to eat or lick.
By the end they smelled and had to spend five hours in the car on the way back. Once we had gotten home and I had taken the seat cover out, I realized how dirty the car was. It smelled like wet dog. There was sand, fur, and slobber everywhere. “I looked to the sky and screamed why do I even bother with the cover!”
I had no other choice. I took that filthy car to the car wash. I was fully prepared. I had a pocket full of toonies. I backed into that stall and made sure that vacuum cleaner was fully functioning. I opted for the automated mat wash. Every little scrap of litter had been picked up. It was go time!
Instant action as the coins hit the bottom. I flew into the car! Scrambling, inhaling crap from every crack and crevice of the not so offensive front seat. Then it was time for the back seat. I was taken aback for a moment. Some may have thought we had scooped sand into the car. Others may have thought we had shaved a dog in the back seat. It looked and smelled horrible. Then I remembered my precious time ticking lower and lower.
I started out hunched over and ended up eventually crawling to the other side. Moving as quickly as I could. All that precious time and money. Ticking away. Evaporating. In the heat of that moment I felt like I was in one of those Daniel Craig James Bond fight scenes. Two people scrambling so violently that the viewer can’t tell if they are both really good at fighting or have no idea what they are doing.
I am apparently more of the latter. The hose was stuck on something and I yanked. At this time I realized the hose was underneath me. Not pinned underneath me, but loose underneath me. Painfully it arced up right into my crotch and delivered a light tap. Through squinted eyes and pinched lips I kept vaccuuming. Time was money.
Once the worst of the back seat was over with I started doing the shampooing and adding the scents. That part was pretty uneventful. Lots of shampoo and a mixture of new car and vanilla scents. I only really wanted to talk about the part where I felt like James Bond and got cracked in the no-no’s.