Who is beautiful, it is wetly beautiful

I spent the Friday at Andi in the cosmetics. You can imagine that I became magnificent. Clean, undulating snow-white-grey hair cascade, brilliant paws, pink little ears. I got home around 4 pm and the news was already waiting from the next-day Tata clan walk. Adultowners were worried about what it would be in this manner with my beauty, but they were trying to convince each other of the fact that I do not go into the water. They may not have taken this seriously.
Some weak experiment was made though on the coast the following day, to let me heading back, but after Molly, Bee, Fletch, and Doris I leapt into the water! We jumped, we swam, we were running around, we played again. By the time we got back to the cars we dried. It didn't blame on our beauty csorba, except Doris, who found dead fish and unknown stinking things to roll in and was reprimanded well of course.
Many compliments pocketed, much photograph was taken of us, the peoples' big part liked five waterdogs. For who not, and provided a sound to this, the individual dirtier and was more stinking, than we five!