On today, my day off, I scheduled grooming appointments for both the pup and myself. While mine took 20 minutes, hers clocked in at TWO HOURS.
Two hours of agony, for me.
I am protective of the little girl. She had a rough start to life and is still timid around strangers. And most noises. And weather. And paper bags.
So I figured leaving her alone with a stranger who is providing the works to her scruffy visage would be devastating. I fretted and stalled and tried to convince A she was the most adorable ragamuffin in the world, before A finally pointed out that she was practically running into things her hair was so long. So I made the appointment. harumph.
She knew something was up this morning, and took every chance to wriggle under a low piece of furniture. After I finally nabbed her and took a road trip to the spectacular pet store a few towns over, I dropped her off and tried to heal myself with retail therapy. I DIDN’T BUY A THING. THIS WAS SERIOUS.
I returned to the pet store a half hour early with no purchases from my earlier attempt at shopping but my ulcer was coming along nicely. I hovered outside the salon, trying to listen to the conversation between groomer and groomee. The damn tropical birds downstairs were interrupting my eavesdropping, however.
At 1:30 on the button I sprang for the entrance to the salon, anxious to see my darling Beef, for her next appointment at the pet therapist. The door swung open (unaided, I swear) and …. there was no sign of the groomer or Beef.
passed out wondered aloud as to the whereabouts of my sweet pup. Another puppy mom also let herself into the salon (now I don’t feel so bad) and discovered Beef in a kennel towards the back.
I swooped over to the kennel and saw her looking DAMNED ADORABLE. She was like a new pooch, and no longer smelled like a wet sock. I cut her loose from the kennel, the groomer reappeared (didn’t ask) and informed me that Beef was “wonderful” and “a gentle soul.”
Now we are at home and she is snoozing at my feet. I’m going to assume those are the contended snores of a pampered pooch, and not one that is overwhelmed from a traumatizing day of clipped nails, brushed teeth and … glands.
Before and after …. because I promised my dad.