The Great Skin Shed & Operation: Tiny Dog Application

The Great Skin Shed & Operation: Tiny Dog Application

🌼 Date: Tuesday, March 10, 2026

⚡ Energy: Determined with a side of slightly horrified curiosity

💖 Status: Exfoliated within an inch of my life

🥰 Outlook: Hopeful for smoother skin and maybe a tiny new family member

Well… yesterday we talked about my brilliant chemo-brain idea to try dry brushing to combat this full-body snow globe situation.

Today was experiment day.

Now, because I am nothing if not a practical scientist in my own personal bathroom laboratory, I decided the smartest place to attempt this little adventure would be standing in the shower. That way, if things got… messy… cleanup would be minimal.

Friends.

I was not prepared.

You would not believe how much skin came off my body. I’m talking flakes, particles, tiny bits floating around like I was creating my own personal dermatology blizzard.

At one point I actually stopped and wondered:

Should I be wearing a mask for this?

Because seriously… is it bad to inhale your own skin?

I mean, logically it feels like something one should probably avoid… but at that point the damage was already done. So I guess time will tell. 😆

Once the brushing portion of the experiment concluded (and the shower floor looked like it had just survived a mild sandstorm), I moved on to phase two: the exfoliating sponge.

If we’re doing this, we’re doing it all the way.

So, I scrubbed, rinsed, scrubbed again, and then proceeded to apply lotion to every single body part I could physically reach. Arms, legs, chest, stomach, shoulders… if it had skin on it, it got moisturized.

It was basically a full-body lotion party.

But even after all that attention, I still had that weird “pilling” feeling—you know, when little bits of skin decide they’re not quite ready to leave the building yet.

So, what did I do?

I grabbed a clean, dry washcloth and wiped down my entire body again like I was doing the world’s strangest post-shower detailing job.

More flakes.
More bits.
More evidence that my body apparently believes it’s a never-ending source of exfoliation material.

Good grief.

I don’t think my skin has ever received this much focused attention in its entire life.

On a much happier note, though, after my spa treatment / science experiment / dermatology excavation project, I sat down and finished the adoption application for that tiny little girl from the shelter.

And let me tell you… this was not a quick “name, address, and favorite dog treat” kind of application.

Oh no.

This thing was more like applying for admission to an Ivy League college.

I swear there were at least 50 questions, and several of them required full-on essay answers.

Questions about my home.
Questions about my schedule.
Questions about my yard.
Questions about my philosophy on dog training.

At one point I actually stopped and thought:

Wait a minute… am I even qualified to own a dog?

Which is ridiculous, because I’m 54 years old and I’ve had dogs in my life since I was a kid.

But somewhere around question number thirty-something, I started feeling like I should probably be including references, transcripts, and a personal statement about my long-term goals in dog parenting.

But I powered through.

Because the whole time I was filling it out, I kept thinking about those little eyes that spoke straight to my heart.

Application: submitted.

Now here’s the funny part.

Apparently, chemo brain decided that 3:00 in the morning was the perfect time to wrap things up. So sometime around that hour, I hit submit and went to bed feeling pretty good about getting it done.

And by the time I woke up later that morning?

I already had a text from the shelter asking if we could schedule the phone interview on Wednesday.

Cue the excitement… and maybe a tiny bit of nervous energy.

So, stay tuned, my beauties, because tomorrow we find out what happens next in Operation: Tiny Dog.

Send those good vibes and hopeful thoughts our way. If everything lines up the way my heart is hoping, there might be a five-pound little lady joining our family very soon.

And honestly, after today’s Great Skin Shed of 2026, a little puppy snuggle would be the perfect reward.

💗 Tina –
One Badass Day at a Time