I decided that it was time "Prince" had a bath and the only place that I could think of where he would not be able to jump down from was in the old kitchen copper. There were no washing machines in 1951.
Oh Boy! What a ta-ta that was trying to make "Prince" look like a prince.
He thought we were going to drown him and I was trying to wash him while Cliff held the copper lid partly over the copper so that the dog would not try to jump out. It was a struggle but we did it and what a difference it made to "Prince" he looked absolutely gorgeous.
He was all white and fluffy and I gave hubby orders to walk him up and down in the sunshine to dry him off while I got myself and my son ready to go out. We were taking "Prince" out with us for a long walk as it was such a lovely summer's day.
"Prince" was not too happy at not being able to roll in the muck but we managed to keep him clean until we started out. He dug his heels in as we were about to go out of the gate.
No way was he going anywhere until he had his brick firmly in his mouth. By the time we met Amy, my sister, to start out on our walk by the canal he had acquired a red beard.
He resembled a reversed Santa Claus. With a white coat and red beard.
When we got to the canal we let "Prince" off his lead and as he had never been near a stretch of water like that in his life he decided to go right up to the water's edge. So consequently he is looking at another dog with a brick in its mouth (his reflection) and he promptly decided to jump in to get aquainted.
Fortunately hubby managed to step in the water to fish him out before he got carried away with any undercurrent's and by the time the dog had rolled in the shale that made the path, was strewn with he was a green, grey and black dog with a red beard. Just like something out of a horror film.
Hubby's feet and trousers bottoms were soaking wet and he was squelching around trying to look dignified. It was SO funny and once again I started laughing. My sister and myself were doubled up with laughter while hubby was trying to put the dog back on the lead. Even then the little devil would not shift until hubby had found him another brick for him to carry because he had lost his original one when he (dropped in) to see his double. "Prince" looked a proper grot-bag and I wanted to get him home as quickly as I could.
He was always getting into situations that brought much laughter to us especially when the next bonfire night came round again.
We made sure that he was down stairs this time but I was not reckoning on "Prince" making for the big cellar that we had running the whole length of the house. This was where the coal man put the coal when he made a delivery. A big grating used to be outside the front window that was lifted up for the coal to be thrown down the hole. No such thing a central heating in those far off days.
I had been watching the fireworks going off with Barry in the garden and I had not realised that hubby had left the cellar door open. "Prince" had made his way down the cellar for safety and no amount of coaxing would make him come up the steps from the cellar.
When the fireworks finished he decided to come up and when we looked at him I went into fits of laughter. All that was white on him was his ruddy eyes. He must have tried to bury himself in the slack from the coal. Al Jolson would have been jealous if he could have seen him.
We were up till two o'clock in the morning washing him and getting him dry.
He was a great character and even though it is over fifty odd years since he died from cancer I still have to smile at his antics.
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