After play group this evening I (a) wrestled a 24-kilo dog into a bathtub, (b) continued to wrestle said dog who did not want clean water dumped on him repeatedly, which was ironic because (c) less than half an hour before he had rolled around in a mud puddle the size of Connecticut at the dog park.
Poor Parker, he won't be going to the play group much until either (a) the mud in the dog park freezes or (b) the mud dries out.
But in a strange twist, right now he's lying on the floor gnawing on a bully stick, peaceful as a bishop. I do love this puppy most of the time.
Update: As I wrote those words, he started re-arranging the room. Oy.