Wet Dog

The other day when I was walking Scruffy, he accidentally got into a pile of ants. Fortunately, they weren't fire ants, but they still hurt. He was hating life for a few minutes--jumping and whimpering each time an ant would bite. I ran him upstairs and turned on the shower, trying to kill the ants while Ellen and I spent the next half hour trying to pick them out.

When it was all said and done, we had about 50+ ants, and one wet dog.

"Let's just try to forget this whole ordeal. OK?"