I did the pencils for this some time ago. It was prompted by the fact that our young spaniel thinks fox's arse-waste smells wonderful if it's rubbed in liberal quantities around the chest and throat. Can you imagine some doggy advert in Horse and Hound? Merde de Raynardine - Oh how it lingers! Well that's obviously how our dog thinks, because we almost got to the point where no walk was complete without a roll in the latest fox offering.
We didn't quite encounter the mayhem depicted here, but if she realises that the shower has been turned on specifically for her, she tries to slope off and hide under the armchair. I hasten to add that she is isolated in the lobby if she stinks. She's only allowed near the furniture while I prepare the flea shampoo. Oh yeah. Fleas. Dog ownership is just one long round of unalloyed joy.
If fox poo becomes a bit monotonous she'll ring the changes by rolling in the putrefied remains of some unfortunate creature. The more advanced the state of putrefaction, the better. Beast or fowl, it doesn't matter. As long as it stinks!
And then she expects my unconditional love! And yet she gets it. Bloody hound.