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Why I'm Not Allowed To Groom The Dog





(This is an article I wrote in 2007. Scarlet has since passed from cancer at age 10 and we miss her very much. This is sort of a tribute to her and helps us keep her memory alive in pictures. It also shows the importance of having proper grooming tools. So, following political examples, I take no blame for how much I goofed up while grooming the dog.)
We have a list in our house of things I'm not allowed to do. I'm not allowed to touch the laundry. I can't cook, run the dishwasher, iron clothes, fix anything that breaks because I slam it or beat on it, and now I'm not allowed to groom the dog. Genetics made me a hunter-gatherer. It's not my fault. Like a male lion, I growl and stumble to the food, provide protection, and pretty much stay in a prone position. My wife likes it that way because objects remain intact.

Last year we took our dog Scarlet (Australian-Shepherd mixed) to a groomer. They charged 70.00 and didn't do anything I could see except douse her with stinky perfume. She has triple-canopy hair, and once the weather warms, her armor begins to shed in piles. I bought electric clippers and did a good job of removing three bags of hair. But I fried the clippers. So I wasn't allowed to buy a new set of clippers. My wife said she would buy them. (Before picture above)
She bought me battery operated clippers, and this year I went to work on the dog. You have to plug them in to recharge. It's a lame system for a hunter-gatherer. The battery started to go after about twenty minutes. I had to recharge it for at least an hour to make it work for five minutes. By the time my wife came home I wasn't half finished. I called her to warn her Scarlet looked different. It didn't matter that she had bought inferior sissy clippers when I need industrial strength sheep shears. When she saw Scarlet, she collapsed to a sitting position, and Scarlet looked depressed and kept her head in my wife's lap, whining. I was the cursed one.
I didn't know what to do so I offered to cook dinner, and that made her jump up fast. (Scarlet after my cut job below. My wife is on the phone telling our daughter about the nightmare I had created. Click to make larger.)













We ended up taking her to a different groomer. They did a great job for another 70.00. My wife said that I was the big topic as the professional groomers tried to figure out what I did. All the customers had a great time at my expense. Things are back to normal. I'm a lounging lion, the dog is happy, and my wife is happy (but still shakes her head when she looks at me.) With Spring coming, all I have to do now is figure out how I can screw the yard up so bad that my wife will cut the grass. Then I will be a true hunter-gatherer.

(Scarlet after groomer below. Enlarge to see four military type hashmarks on her that the groomers couldn't remove. I tried using scissors at one point.)

Comments

  1. Fran Friel1:34 PM

    LOL! An impressive stategy, Dennis. My husband has a similar tactic, but he's closer to a southern belle type. "Oh my, Miss Fran, what ever am I to do with this power drill?"

    Beautiful dog, btw. I'd keep that groomer on speed dial if I were you. ;-)

    Best,
    Fran

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous5:58 AM

    Hey Dennis
    That reminds me of the time my neighbor kid and I decided that we were going to cut Grandson Steven Jrs Hair.He had a full head of hair so we had a lot to work with so I thought.
    Until he said Grandma Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease take me to the hair place well
    It 8:45 and I hurriedly called and they said bring him in so we rushed down there
    And yes he got a Burr by the time they were done evening him out
    So now whenever his hair starts growing out we are forever reminded about the time I tried to cut his hair
    Which will never happen again for sure LOL
    P.S nice looking dog
    Cincinnati Carol

    ReplyDelete

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