“Highlighting My Dog”
I arrived home from a weekend away to find that every inch of white fur on my dog, was now orange. He raced out of the basement as I opened the door and flew past me. The first thing I noticed were the orange spots all over the carpeting, bits and pieces of plastic, and yes. . . he had been sick as well. Thoughts of cleaning up the mess soon replaced the relaxed state of mind in which I had returned. I realized it had probably been a while since anyone had let him out. My mind played out the conversation I would later have with those who should have taken better care of him.
When I found him waiting at the back door to be let out, I burst out laughing. It wasn’t just the rug which had been decorated with orange. My Australian Shepard, has beautiful markings of black, white, and rust but now every bit of that white was fluorescent orange. I recognized that a highlighter must have been left on the table by my son and Bozie had certainly helped himself to it. He was so happy to see me. He danced around and wiggled for attention. I could not stop laughing.
I hooked his leash on to his collar and walked him to the end of the driveway so he could relieve himself. Poor thing! When I turned around to walk back to the house I noticed the orange footprints which had been left in the snow. I dried his paws and found the towel was covered in orange. I knew I could not let him free to roam the house. New carpet– three week old cream colored carpet, had been installed throughout the upstairs. I tucked him into the bathroom for a few minutes and went to change into old clothes.
The two of us then made a trip to the laundry tub in the basement and I attempted to wash out the orange. I made sure to take a few pictures before beginning the ordeal. His ears went back and he looked so ridiculously pathetic standing in an orange puddle, surrounded in pale orange foam. I scrubbed and rubbed and the best I could do was to fade that popsicle orange to a soft orange sherbet. I dried him until there was no orange soaking into the towel.
Upstairs he laid down and I tackled the mess in the basement. Afterwards, I sat down to send pictures of our crazy looking dog to my daughter who is away at college. She called me laughing, ” Mom, do you remember when he did this with the red pen?” Of course I did. It happened last April and after he had been washed all of his white fur became pink. She continued, “Remember how the neighbors kept asking if we’d dyed him for Easter?” “What will they think now?” “They’ll think we do it every year,” I laughed.