Barking Blondes: Wet weather, cabin fever and dog spas
Not even the lure of an honest sausage with Julian Clary in Regents Park was going to get our two out in the rain this week. Molly and Matilda are both bull breeds and it’s an accepted fact that this is a breed not best suited to water.
Tuesday, when the heavens opened, Matilda’s bladder must have been the size of a pumpkin. Having stuck her head out briefly to catch a glimpse of the tidal wave of debris flowing down the high street, she retreated back indoors rather than risk relieving herself.
Molly, the miniature bull terrier, also spent the day with her legs crossed. Shutting her out on the patio was pointless. She simply stood, stock still and stared at us with hatred through the glass, rain bouncing off her head. Guilt made us let her back in.
Indoor activities such as throwing a ball up and down the corridor between apartments, ceased when Mario from downstairs accused us of disrupting his yoga. Four pairs of thundering legs overhead, with accompanied panting and snorting (the dogs, not us) had disturbed his joss sticks and his chakra.
Joan Collins once wrote in one of her beauty books that when bored, why not turn your home into a home spa? Canine beauty tips were never discussed but when cabin fever had reached fever pitch by mid week, we decided to act.
What better way to spend a damp afternoon than a doggy pampering session?
By the way, Joan suggests wrapping your thighs in bin bags whilst doing the house work in preparation for such a session. We did. Our thighs still measure the same.
Claws clipped, ears cleaned, corn filed (Molly’s ONLY blemish) and the girls looked smashing. The only treatment missing was a bath.
All of you dog owners know that bathing two dogs in a tiny flat, whilst it’s chucking it down outside is guaranteed to end badly. The shaking of wet fur, and rubbing wet body in doggy temper up and down the faux fur rug is a scene of chaos.
So we decided to run them over to a pet parlour in North London fora shampoo and blow dry.
Only that wasn’t what they ended up with. This parlour would put any human health farm to shame. They boast to be the only joint to offer dead sea clay wraps for dogs. After shampooing the animals are caked in brown mud then wrapped in foil like swiss rolls and left to relax whilst listening to Brahms. Apparently the mud or clay is packed with minerals and antioxidants to penetrate the skin, relax the muscles, with a sense of well being.
Our two were once invited to the opening of a pet spa in a top Knightsbridge store. They had their nails painted and their paws set in cement to mark the event, but not even this flag ship department store offered doggy mud wraps.
In case any of you are thinking we exploit our dogs, we took a picture of them relaxing in the foil. Their blissed out expressions says it all.
But for all you doubters, every dog has its day. Travelling back from North London, we stopped for a comfort break in Primrose Hill. The rain had momentarily ceased and the girls leapt from the car and into the park with enthusiasm. And disappeared.
After ten minutes of searching we looked to the top of this famous hill. The bit where all cameramen seem to film the London skyline at its very best. There, wriggling on their backs with their legs in the air, were our girls. Caking themselves in fox poo.
Listen to Barking at the Moon every Thursday 10pm-midnight on BBC London 94.9Tagged in: barking at the moon, barking blondes, Bulldog, dog spa, dogs
Recent Posts on Notebook
Latest from Independent journalists on Twitter