What I'm Not

I am not a lot of things. But today I want to tell you that I am NOT a dog groomer. However, that doesn't stop me from pretending to be one. Remember "pretending?" I watch a lot of that every afternoon in kindergarten and I love the way the kids set up their situation.

"Pretend I'm the mom and you're the teenager....no, no....you're the cat. And then our daddy comes home and we are cooking and ...." And usually the mom is on the phone saying, "uh, huh....uh, huh....uh, huh..." while cooking something on the play stove and the cat is crawling around licking on the carpet. And always there is a crying baby....the 5 year old laying in the play baby bed covered up in the doll blanket.

I pretend to be a dog groomer.



Two of our three dogs are poodle mixes and need to be groomed about once a month. But because we have so many other priorities in line before "Dog Grooming"....the luxury of taking them to a professional has turned into one of my chores. And it's not getting done once a month on schedule, I assure you.



After I butcher.....groom the dogs, they are almost bald....in places.....so it takes a good month to grow out evenly. Then there's that one week period where they look so dang cute. And then on a random week night I catch sight of what looks like a small version of Big Foot walking around on all fours and I know it's time to groom the dogs again. Another clue is when their head becomes very small looking because their body sticks out so far with bushy hair. This is the point where I become embarrassed for them.


Of course, I have to wait until the weekend. Because it's a weekend job. Because there's a lot of hair and water involved. And the amount of energy it takes is way more than I have on a weekday after work.



So yesterday was Maggie's turn and today was Dixie's. I cannot do 2 in one day because it's a workout. If you've ever seen the calf scramble at the rodeo, it's a little like that. One hand is wrestling the dog to the ground, while the other hand has open scissors in it. And somebody's going to get cut or stabbed. Both dogs are shaking the entire time and trying their best to escape. About the time I comb out a section and get ready to cut, they jerk and I jerk and I yell and they whine and we're back to square one.

And you know, they have 4 legs, a whole body and then there's the face and the underside. It never ends.


About 5 minutes into the grooming session, I holler for Chuck and he comes in to help. But I quickly send him away because now his huge hands are in the way and we've added them to the list of body parts most likely to get stabbed.



Although this is not funny, this makes me think of a friend of mine who was trimming her dog's mustache...and clipped the dog's tongue. I certainly understand how that happens. My dogs get extremely nervous when I am in their bikini area. One move and they would be....well, you know...more than neutered.



Anyway. Check that major chore off the list for the next several weeks. No injuries to report.

Before: "Oh, dear Lord....she's got the scissors out."

After: "I feel like a puppy again. Now if I can just stop thinking

about how close she came to my woo-woo with the scissors."

You really do get what you pay for. The dogs look like their owner grooms them. For free.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Mine got me chocolate and a sweet card.

And assisted me in my grooming salon.