Transformation by: Valeria Barrera-Parraga, Charcoal, 2018

Bubbles

It’s already been a long day at work and it is my turn to give Tazz a bath.  Tazz is my new puppy, who is black, white, and fuzzy all over.  My husband washed him last time, and he demanded I take a turn, so I decided that today would be the day.  I mean, how hard could this be? He’s about 15 pounds and probably a foot tall, and it’s me against him.  Walking towards the bathroom, I grab a towel from the closet. To the opposite of the towel closet are the cabinets with the sink, under which I find the vanilla oatmeal shampoo and conditioner.  Dropping to my knees, I close the drain and turn on the water.  “Hey Hun?  How warm should the water be?”

“Already asking questions I see, how amusing!”  Why even bother asking? He’s the king of making a point.

“Never mind,” I retort.  I’ll just go with a lukewarm temperature, nothing scalding.  Finding the perfect temperature with my hand running under the faucet, I stand up to grab little Tazz out of his crate.

Walking into the living room, I see James sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand.  Nothing like Monday night football to keep him occupied.  He doesn’t even say anything when I walk in between him and the TV.  I might be having an okay night, after all. His team seems to be winning.

Sitting back down in front of the bathtub, I hear someone walk in behind me. Crap, must be halftime.  With his deep and scratchy voice, I hear James ask, “Did you put gas in my truck?”

Putting Tazz in the water, I feel my heart sink.  Of course, I forgot. He said I would.  Realizing that Tazz is doing everything in his power to climb out of the tub, I turn my focus back over to him.  If I don’t, I will be just as drenched as he is.  His poor paws search for anything they can to get out of the water that is washing away the musk he worked so hard to make.  Silly puppy.  Grabbing a cup that we keep on the ledge of the tub, I scoop up water and pour it across his back.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” my husband says, now standing directly behind me.  Chills shiver up my spine.  I hope this doesn’t become anything too serious.  I don’t need this tonight.

With Tazz being completely soaked, I grab his shampoo bottle and put a dollop on my hand.  Once I rub my hands together to get a good lather, I begin working to get the shampoo to cover every centimeter of his furry body.

“I did, I’m sorry,” I say, with my attention obviously elsewhere.  Bubbles are forming in the tub from the shampoo.

“Now you know I got to be somewhere early in the morning, and now I’ll have to get up even earlier to make sure I can get there on time.  You promised when you asked to borrow the truck that you would fill up,” James retorts.

Grabbing and filling the empty cup with water, I pour the water over Tazz’s coat to rinse away the shampoo, the bubbles in the water bursting as he tries to escape his water-filled prison.  “Why don’t you go fill up tonight?  Or I can go? Let me go,” adding the last sentence quickly when I notice his face quickly turning a deep shade of red.

Water is everywhere at this point, Tazz splashing up mini tsunamis each and every direction.  Hearing James sigh and his footsteps as he walks away, I squirt some conditioner in my hands and start to work through all of the pup’s knots.  Poor little guy, I need to brush him more often.  Hearing the bathroom door open again, I hear him say, “You know I love you, right?”

Pulling little Tazz out of the water, I start to dry him and the mini-flood that is in my bathroom.  I look at James with a smile and say, “Yeah, I know, I love you, too.”  The words feel empty.  We say the words to each other, but it’s more out of habit.  He lost that sparkle in his eyes two years after we got married.

Picking up the now freshly scented Tazz, I put him back in his crate after a nice hug.  I can tell he’s happy to be done with his bath.  He doesn’t seem to be a fan of being covered in water, but maybe he’ll get used to it.  I grab the keys off the table and head out the front door.