It all started with a smell...one so powerful it could knock a buzzard off a garbage truck. A smell that seemed to radiate from my beloved dog, Otis. He had been on one of his infamous “adventures” in the backyard, which I later discovered involved rolling in something that could only be described as nature’s most potent stink bomb.

“Alright, Otis, it’s bath time,” I announced, grabbing the shampoo and leading him to the bathroom.

Otis, of course, had other plans. He immediately transformed from a 130-pound brick of a bullmastiff into a slippery, four-legged ninja. The second he saw the bathtub, he turned and bolted, leaving me chasing after a blur of fur and stink.

After a solid ten minutes of “The Great Chase,” involving me tripping over a chair and knocking over a lamp, I managed to lure Otis back with a Tootsies & Treats Peanut Butter Macaroon. Success! Or so I thought.

As soon as he was in the tub, Otis gave me the saddest, most betrayed look in the world. I turned on the water, and just as I began lathering the shampoo into his fur, he made his move.

With the force of a thousand tiny hurricanes, he shook. Water, dirt, and the remnants of whatever he had rolled in flew in every direction. I got a face full of soapy, stink-water while the walls and ceiling took on a new, “abstract” pattern.

Blinded and gagging, I fumbled for a towel, but Otis saw his opening. Like a wet torpedo, he launched himself out of the tub and zoomed through the house, leaving a trail of wet paw prints and doggy chaos.

By the time I caught him, he had rubbed himself dry on my couch, which now smelled worse than before. Meanwhile, I was drenched, my bathroom looked like a war zone, and my shampoo bottle was somehow floating in the toilet.

Otis wagged his tail, looking at me like, Wasn’t that fun?

Next time,  I’ll bath Otis at The Family Pet