With my hand on the wheel and my brain in neutral . . .

Posts tagged ‘dog grooming’

The Dog’s Haircut Made it Official

e Petey on his back

Just a memory that crossed my mind:

Years ago, I had a housemate who had a 15-pound ragamuffin schnauzer who wore his long curls and cuteness as a disguise: whenever we tried to have him groomed (his breed is known for wearing an aristocratic mustache, short hair on the body, and curls on the legs and underside), he would reveal his true identity of a Tasmanian Devil.   After just two or three visits to every dog groomer in the area, they all told us that although they appreciate our business, please don’t bring our little rascal back. The last time we took him to a groomer, he came home with a limp and was stiff for days. Although we were sure that the groomer probably had gotten the worst of it, for us, like the dog, that was it: we’d had enough of the groomers. We bought a dog clipper set and tried to groom him ourselves. Surely, we thought, as his “Mom and Dad” we would be more gentle and patient than any professional groomer.   Well, that day cocktail hour came early.

My friend came up with a plan. In the evenings, sometimes the dog liked to cuddle on the easy chair with his “Mom.” He lied along her thigh, sideways, so he could use all four legs to push against the chair arm to keep his “Mom” on her side of the cushion.   In this position she petted him and lulled him half asleep, and then, stroke, stroke, scissor snip, stroke, stroke, scissor snip . . . It took awhile, but she got all the matted knots off his right side. She stood up, took away the pile of dog hair from the end table, and scooted him over to work on his left side. So, after about two hours, she got all of his rib cage, shoulders, and haunches cleaned up, but not his back or his butt. By this time the dog had figured out the ploy and wanted no more of it. He jumped down and ran around the house, ignoring our cajoling and evading capture.

My housemate pronounced, “Well, I guess it’s official. Hair short on both sides, long on top and in the back: our dog’s haircut is a mullet and we are officially white trash.”


2014, Mik Hetu, author of Napism.Info (for people who take their naps “religiously”)

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