Rubba-Doggie You're The One...

My husband takes our dog, Brooklyn, out for a late night walk after our return home from doing two shows. I use this opportunity to take a nice warm bath to soothe my aching muscles. I grab my iPod and play the latest album from my friend's band, The Unlovables (she's the lead singer and bassist and song writer), and step into the tub for a nice, relaxing soak. About two minutes later, my husband returns with the pooch, riled up because she had managed to slip from his grip and circumvent at top speed what seemed like the entire complex before he managed to retrieve her. He's telling me this in the bathroom while I am in the tub, and Brooklyn is panting proudly, putting her paws on the side of the tub every so often so she can see me. No sooner had my husband finished his tale, in one single bound Brooklyn hops right into the bathtub, with me in it! It was a clean entry, no splashing or auxillary movement. Had this been the Olympics, she would have received a 10 for a perfect landing. I believe she even had the grace to keep her left front paw suspended. I sit there next to her, stunned and unable to move, staring at my husband in disbelief. Brooklyn assesses the situation, the water almost at her neck, and decides that she likes it and begins to lick the toasty warm bathwater. Luckily, I hadn't begun to soap up, so the water was relatively clean. Without missing a beat, my husband opens the sink cabinet and hands me the dog shampoo. She's now as clean as a whistle!