Cruising Pinterest one morning and found a post about DIY dry dog shampoo (here, in case you’re interested). It said, “keeps your dog smelling nice and clean in between baths!”
According to Pinterest, all I needed was cornstarch, baking soda and vanilla extract.
I read this and thought what everyone thinks when they look at Pinterest: Hey, I can do that!
The author raved over her yellow Labrador always smelling like vanilla and how the dry dog shampoo kept her so clean.
I want a dog that smells like vanilla!
And the blog-dog took her ‘bath’ so gracefully. Hell, she almost looked happy! This dry dog shampoo thing had to be easier than hosing my dog down in the back yard!
So I rummaged through the pantry. I came up with vanilla extract, baking soda and . . . shit . . . no corn starch. But I was determined to have a vanilla scented dog. So I looked up corn starch substitutes.
Pinterest to the rescue again!
According to Pinterest, all-purpose flour will substitute for corn starch.
Score! I have that!
I mixed up the baking soda, flour and poured in some vanilla extract. Then I closed the container and shook it. Hard. The mixture puffed out the top of the container and coated the counter.
Folks, this is how foreshadowing looks in real life.
I wiped up the mess then looked for a good place to sprinkle Tilley with her new magic vanilla scented powder.
I looked at my floor. Dark wood. Probably not a good idea to do this indoors.
To the back yard!
Tilley bounded outside with all the grace and energy a three year old lab can muster. She stopped and looked back at me. Her tail flipped back and forth. Her mouth hung open, tongue lolling out the side in a big doggy grin.
And then I brought the container out from behind my back. “Tilley, come here!” I said cheerfully.
Her ears drooped. Her tail slowly stopped waving until it hung still.
“Come ‘ere, girl! Wanna smell like vanilla?” Tilley did not want to smell like vanilla.
Instead Tilley sagged pathetically to the cement in her best imitation of a limp noodle. Her eyes brimmed with betrayal. But I thought we were gonna play!
“Oh come on. It’s not that bad. Come here!” I patted my knees.
She didn’t budge. Just stared up at me from the cement as though to say she might not be able to stop whatever I had planned, but she wasn’t going to encourage it either.
I sighed and rolled my eyes. I walked over to her. “Come on,” I said, my cheerful a little strained now. “Get up.”
She knows the command get up.
She did not get up.
“Tilley,” I said, exasperated. I grabbed her collar and tried to haul her to her feet. This reinforced a truth: If a sixty pound Lab doesn’t want to get to their feet, they’re not getting to their feet. I succeeded only in lifting her head and squishing her ears forward with her collar.
“Fine then,” I said. “I’ll just do it with you laying down.”
I started sprinkling the vanilla smelling powder over her fur.
Only then did it occur to me that the powder was all white. And the blog dog was white. Even the carpet in Pinterest pictures was white.
In retrospect, I don’t know why I didn’t question the credibility of someone who leads an all-white life, but if I had, you wouldn’t have a blog post today.
Because Tilley is black. Solid, unerringly black.
The powder fell on her in a white cloud turning her a dusty gray color. She looked like she’d rolled in a pile of ashes.
But, the container smelled good, so maybe I could comb it out. . .? I finished sprinkling her all over with the powder. I did finally get her to her feet (she was trying to run away) and got her other side. Then I stepped back.
And what happens immediately after a dog has been given a bath?
Yep, you got it.
Tilley promptly shook, sending a white, vanilla-scented cloud of flour and baking soda into the air. She sprinted out into the grass and rolled around. Not wanting her to get even dirtier, I called her into the house.
Where she promptly shook again.
This time the scented cloud puffed off her and all over the dark wood floor.
So after turning my dog white and making a gigantic mess, did she at least smell good? I stuck my nose in her fur and inhaled, getting a snootful of powder.
Did I smell vanilla?
ps. I love comments! Every time you leave a comment a Pinterest project succeeds!