Girl, Rottweiler, and Hygiene

Get up? No. 

 I slowly rose from bed glaring at the alarm that had gone off. I didn't work at the coffee shop today. So why was my alarm going off at-

"OOOUUUFFFA"

I cringed as the bringer of mornings landed on top of my stomach. Then following his normal proceedings, began to lick at my face. 

"Get off!" 

My futile pushing ended up with girl falling off one side of the bed and puppy falling off the other. The devious deadly puppy plan had succeeded. His tail wagged as he hit the floor, i thought you never ever were ever going to get up.

After being the care giver to a rottweiler puppy for a few months, my need to glare disappeared with the fact that it would be entirely wasted on two large chocolate eyes. I opted for a sigh instead, "Yeah. I'm up. Time to bathe." 

I walked blindly out of the bedroom, followed by the clip clip clip of little paws and tripped by the prancing bearer of said paws. 

"Mo! Stop it, I need to walk."

Obviously to no avail. 

I finally made it the few yards to the bathroom, watching grimly as the puppy went right over to the pile of worn, not worn, and partially worn clothing; strategically discarded but clearly an inviting dog nest. I grumbled  about how "his majesty" did not have to clean up said dirty clothing as I threw my pajamas. (I am under the firm belief that pile grows without my knowing.) He avoided the flying pajamas and then found them the warmest place to curl up. 

Best sleep spot ever!

I turned the shower on toward the left, knowing that I should test the temperature before I stepped in to the flaming hell of Mount Doom. I held my hand under the water for a few seconds testing it. I was correct, it did  heat up to Mordor levels. I was amused as I turned it back a few centimeters to the right. Perfect shower temperature accomplished. I stepped in,  relief swelled as the hot, but not burning water ran down my back. 

"This is the life." I was content. 

I turned around to get my face wet, and felt fur hit the back of my legs as if launched from a pupapult (the puppy version of a catapult). I barely held my balance, falling in such a small shower would have been impressive but not comfortable. My eyes landed on the little painted eyebrows of the water-puppy, who was lapping the drain in the shower. 

"MO!" I squeaked, my ability to say his name inhibited by the shower function so it came out more like "Bllmmo!" 

He looked up at me, gave the puppy version of  "Oh whoopsy" and ran back to the laundry. 

"I still saw you!" 

No reply.

"Its not like you can hide it." 

Still no reply. 

I obviously had to stop having conversations with the dog. I grabbed the towel and came out to lecture him. He again gave me the look, I didn't do anything. I was thirsty. I got water. I didn't come flying at you from nowhere.

I grumbled as I moved around the laundry pile, how dogs shouldn't feel the need to take showers because it was trouble for their owners.