The first one is relatively easy -- I get Molly on a leash and into the bathtub before she quite knows what's happening. Note the look of reproach and betrayed trust. But after I scissor off a huge amount of thick undercoat -- (almost like shearing a sheep, Tammy) and shampoo her with an anti-itch soap, she has to admit she feels better.
When at last she's done, so am I. Soaked from head to toe, I go to my closet for dry clothes.
(No post tomorrow -- I'm off to teach at a Women's Writing Retreat -- back Sunday.)