Because of Tin’s dry skin, he more often than not gets what my mother always called a bird bath. A wet washcloth wipe down. Today I was in the park and all of the ducks and swans were by the playground making a ruckus as they dipped in an out of the water washing and preening and screeching. It’s either that time of year or they got really dirty last night. No one was talking, so not sure. But these birds had a much more immersive bath than Tin gets most nights.