I Felt Like The World's Worst Dog Mom Ever

Meet Stinky. We purchased this medium Skinneeez somewhere between 2 and 3 years ago for Coco. He has a tendency to rip apart plush toys for the sole purpose of pulling out every ounce of stuffing. And, he likes to chew socks. A Skinneeez was the ideal solution. No stuffing and it was the closest thing to a plush sock.

Coco wanted nothing to do with the Skinneeez. Neither did Sophie. It sat in their toy basket until Lobo joined our family. Several week after his arrival, he pulled the grey Skinneeez out of the basket and they have been inseparable since.

The operative word is inseparable. 

We have since named his Skinneeez "Stinky." Lobo and Stinky are never more than a foot apart from each other. Stinky to Lobo is equivalent to a toddler's security blanket. Where Stinky is, Lobo is. Even if for a quick trip to deliver biscuit love. Stinky goes too.

Stinky desperately needed a bath. I kept putting it off. And off. And off. I knew having to take Stinky away for any length of time would be traumatizing for Lobo.

What that translates to is he would hate me and I would feel like the world's worst dog Mom ever.

The situation became urgent when we discovered Stinky had a hole. Lobo was trying to pull out the sewn pocket from inside that housed the squeaker. It was then I realized I couldn't put off the inevitable any longer.

Stinky needed a bath and stitches.

This afternoon I distracted Lobo with biscuits and Land O' Lakes American cheese. I stuffed Stinky in my pocket and scurried to the bathroom. I washed Stinky, rinsed and let him soak in hot water for a little bit. All was going surprisingly well until...

I squeezed the squeaker too hard and it sounded.

I immediately heard the pitter patter of Lobo's feet. The whining at the bathroom door. I was busted. There was no way out. I knew the wrath that waited for me on the other side of the door.

I contemplated escaping out the bathroom window. 

I flushed the toilet to make it appear as if I had been in their to pee. Opened the door. Walked out casually. Asked Lobo if he wanted a cookie.

He wasn't falling for it. 

I turned around and discovered Lobo sitting on the bathroom floor staring up at the sink.

Shit. 

I sat at my desk. Waiting. Was Lobo going to sit on the bathroom floor the entire time Stinky was soaking? The guilt set in.

A few minutes later, I heard the pitter patter once again. Lobo was now at my feet. Whimpering. His adorable, yet heartbreaking, cries sounded like baby dinosaur noises.

I felt like the world's worst dog Mom ever.

I couldn't make eye contact with him. I tried to explain what I was doing. Stinky getting a bath and mended was a good thing. This is what Mommies do. Wash things. Fix things.

I wasn't done my sentence when he turned and ran to the bathroom. That's what he did for the next hour. Sit at my feet crying. Sit on the bathroom floor staring up at the sink.

Lisa arrived home not too long after. I was in the bathroom, door closed, drying Stinky off with a hairdryer. I could hear Lobo barking and barking and barking. He was telling Lisa I had taken Stinky away. Stinky was drowning in the bathroom sink. Stinky would have to endure surgery.

At this point, I was in the kitchen. I tried to console Lobo, who was now in Lisa's arms.

He snubbed me. 

An hour later, Stinky was dry. Stitched up. Back in Lobo's possession.

He's a happy boy.

Lobo is still ignoring me.