i don't know for sure what just happened, but i never thought i'd witness this

Today, I decided it was time to begin the spring brushout of the fat, old, sweet girls.

I am not one of those intelligent people who falls in love with dogs that are covered with eyelash length hairs. Oh no, not me. The first three dogs Jack and I loved were chow chows. The next two were the two we currently love, the collie girls. You may notice a similarity between these two breeds--a beautiful, long outer coat with a soft furry undercoat on a large dog. Which means that both of these breeds require brushing several times each year. Lots of brushing. Lots of fur everywhere.

These sweet old girls wander around, looking pretty good for most of the year, but at least twice a year, they shed their soft undercoats. In clumps. They start looking very neglected if I don't comb out those clumps, since the clumps will stay attached to the long, beautiful outer coat, making it a long, beautiful, matted, not-really-so-beautiful outer coat.

Oh, and did I mention these two girls also have an incontinence problem, so as long as we make sure they get their daily ration of pills, they are okay to be around, but if we miss even a day, it will be time to hop in the shower with them. And let me just say that they love showers as much as entering the vet's office. Which is an entirely different post, but let's just say that not only are they often the biggest, hairiest, friendliest pups at the vet's, the dogs that receive the most attention because everybody loved Lassie, but they are also the most vocal, using the wide range of their vocal skills to ensure that everyone in the vet's building knows that THERE ARE COLLIES HERE AND THEY ARE NOT HAPPY. It's kind of like a two-year-old's tantrum at Walmart.

Over the years, I've learned two tricks to get through the brushing. First, I never expect to get an entire dog brushed in one sitting. Not even in one day. Collies are pretty bright dogs (even though they often forget how long their noses are and hit them on corners and door jambs...) so if I try to brush their whole bodies, they get tired and a bit irritated and try to get up and get away from me and the brush. And they will refuse to come see me for a day or so after the brushing because they remember that I was the one with the brush. (Please know that no dogs are injured in the brushing process. I'm very gentle. It's just that they feel the same way about brushings as they do about going to the vet.)

Which brings me to the second thing I've learned. MILK BONES ARE A DOG BRUSHER'S BEST FRIEND. Collies don't get to their wide-body size by skipping meals. They will eat anything. And I mean ANYTHING. They especially love those large-dog size Milk Bones. I've always thought they would eat and eat and eat those bones and put up with as much brushing as my back could take in one sitting.

Today, my long-held belief about Ginger was shattered. I decided that since Ginger is getting on in years that I would give her as many Milk Bones as she wanted while I brushed her. I got out the box of bones I bought at Costco (a year's supply for any smaller dog...) and began brushing and feeding her the bones.

Ginger will no longer sit still and eat as many bones as I give her until she is completely brushed. Surprisingly, she refused to eat another bone after only 11 bones. I thought she'd eat at least 20 bones before slowly getting up and pushing past me to the door.

I don't know what it all means, but apparently even Ginger has a limit. And it appears to be 11 Milk Bones per brushing session.

It leaves me feeling a bit sad for the old girl. Like the daily ration of incontinence pills, I fear it is yet another sign of just how old she is and how quickly time passes.