The DogBlog with Bertie Bassett

I DON'T know about other dogs, but I would pretty much do anything for a sausage.

I will sit, wait, look cute and perhaps even put up my paw in a pathetic attempt to get my chops around this treat of lovely meatiness.

It is on this basis that mum, in her wisdom, has started keeping sausages in the bathroom.

On the suggestion of a friend who noticed my liking for the meaty treats, they have now ended up in the enamel, white evil thing which I know as the bath.

It was following a lovely walk with a new friend of mine across the fields that this new trick to get me washed came to light.

I had a lovely walk, saw lots of wildlife and had a good chat with my pal. I even managed to have a good roll in some mud.

On my return home it became evident that a rub down with an old towel was not going to suffice.

And that's when the sausages appeared.

My mum knows I will do anything for one, so placed two of the gorgeous treats in the bath, hoping I would hop in and devour them and at the same time she could start the shower.

It was tough resisting them. My mouth was watering but I knew what the end result would be. A good wash down with mum's Tresseme which would end up with me smelling like a perfumery counter. Not a good look for an image conscious Bassett.

So after much indecision, mum gave up. The sausages got put away and I went outside. But I wasn't safe, even there.

Quicker than lightning mum was forced to get the hose. It was cold and wet and horrible. A miserable experience and despite my protests, I ended up  preened and pampered within an inch of my life.

In hindsight I should have opted for the sausage option. And a nice warm shower instead.