This was the day. Aquinassar was finally going to give Trout a proper bath. Yup. It was gonna happen. Most of the time, up until now, Trout had gotten bathed well enough in her fishing ventures, but this time, oof, she must’ve gotten into something rank. So, this was the day. Trout was getting a bath.
And it turned out about as well as expected, which is to say, not very well at all, because not only did Trout love playing in the water, Aquin did, too. It took, maybe, five minutes of actual effort before it devolved into a game with no rules and no possible winners. Trout shook and doused her handler, and all bets were off, but luckily, Aquin was still the one holding the hose. You know, for now.
They put their thumb over the nozzle and focused the spray on their target: the happiest tokota they’ve ever seen, prancing and pouncing and snapping at the water, tail wagging.
By the time they tired of the game, (which took a good long while,) the treats Aquin had prepared as a reward for the bath were all gone or too soaked to do any good, and turned into tasty-smelling mush in the grass and, well, mud. They made a lot of mud.
It may not have been a proper bath, but, well, it worked, right? Aside from the mud they had to trudge through, after, and that Trout probably rolled in as soon as Aquin was out it sight. It was way more fun than what they’re originally planned, anyway.
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