Nin's Spa Package





Nin Face

It started with a mud puddle.  (How many good dog stories start with a mud puddle?) Nin was on her daily afternoon walk and play session.  She has this big grassy area that surrounds the museum in which to play ball, chase a stick, run, eat grass; or, as on this particular day, just find a nice big mud puddle and roll.  This is something every dog loves to do, however, a really bad thing for a service dog to do in the middle of the work day.  Dave, curator/dog walker dried Nin off and proceeded to continue with their afternoon routine, which consisted of going from office to office trick-or-treating for daily sustenance.  (Apparently the museum staff feels that I do not feed Nin enough at home and it is part of their job requirement to supplement her food intake.)  During the trick-or-treating process, Nin encounters Bethanee (another important member in Nin’s cast of characters), as the story has been relayed to me, Nin smelled like a swap so Bethanee decided what Nin needed was some French perfume to offset the swamp smell.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I like Bethanee and I know the characters that work around Bethanee so I am not sure this was a truly independent act –however, this was not one of Bethanee, et al. finest  moments, because Nin then is returned to me with a toxic smell created from a combination of stale swamp and French perfume, reminiscent of a French hooker.  

But…the story does not end there, Dave then suggests that we can rinse her off in the museum fountain, sounded good to me, why not?  So, off to the fountain we went.  I took a bit of coaxing to get Nin in (apparently she was the only one thinking clearly on this day) but we managed or rather Dave managed and he got her all nice and wet.  She jumped out, shook off and now smelled like a moldy French hooker.  Brilliant!

A few days of doggy perfume on top of the various other odors was all my roommate and I could take.  It was actually my roommate (Shanae) who broke first.  She comes barging into my room laptop in hand and says, “THAT’S IT! The dog is going for a bath!  I found a groomer down the street, they have a spa package that I think she will like. I will call and make an appointment.”  Now, if you knew my roommate, the fact that she was willing to put this much effort into anything is a miracle. I recognized a woman that had reached her breaking point.  I agreed to the bath, but questioned “Does she really need the spa package?”  The spa package contained: nails trimmed, ears cleaned, anal glands expressed (yuck), bath, blow dry, and four hours of play at the doggie day care.  Aside from the bath, the play time was the part that really excited Shanae, “She doesn’t get to play with dogs that often and it has been four days since she has seen Steeler,” she said. “She will love it!”  “Ok!” I said.  My soft spot is always when someone implies that I am depriving Nin of anything.  After all it had been four days since she had played with Steeler.  So Shanae called and made the appointment for the following Monday. 

We prepared Nin’s paperwork then Shanae and Nin headed to “Dog’s Day Out”.  After the talk about the, now five days, without other dog/Steeler interaction; I was worried that Nin would not want to leave after her playtime.  I would send Shanae over there to pick her up and she would have to be dragged out– similar to the experience of taking her to the vet.  Visions of a despondent service dog went through my head. Especially the next morning when she realized she had to go back to work and not to play.  This thought process was very traumatic for me. 

As soon as I got to work, I already had a call from the “Dog’s Day Out,” administrator.  Nin was doing well, her paperwork all checked out but she was not interacting with any of the dogs so they were going to give her the bath.  “Ok,” I think.  I went into my meeting and when I got out I had another call from “Dog’s Day Out”.  “Hi Ms. Flores.  We’ve given Nin her bath, and the rest of her spa treatment. It all went well.  She is very well behaved.  Can you give us a call when you are free?”  Now, every parent knows these are rarely good words to hear in this order, but I called anyway. 

Apparently, my dog is a snob!  She would not play with any of the dogs at the doggy day care.  She did end up finding another black lab named Mandy that she followed around and hung with but that was it.  No four hours of play for Nin.  I sent Shanae to go pick her up.

Now, don’t get me wrong, Nin loves to play.  She has her CCI dogs, puppies in training, a few Guide Dog friends that she plays with but apparently she will not play with pet dogs.  I guess in the service dog industry there is a secret tail wag before you get to sniff a butt or a special lick that lets each other know that you are just a bit smarter than the rest, you have the vest/harness, you don’t have to sit in the car or wait at home while your person goes out. You get to enter into that restaurant while all of the rest of the animals are relegated to their place in the world --outside.  So there!

I realize that I cannot take responsibility for her being raised a snob but maybe I take some responsibility for perpetuating the snobbiness into her adolescence and adulthood.  It probably goes with the couch in the office and letting her stare at the pet dogs through the glass from inside.  I know I should feel bad about this but I just cannot help but laugh about the entire thing.  Maybe it is time I work on those parenting skills, then again…I will think about it when I stop laughing.