We got our hair did…finally.
I was forced into a haircut last week. Joey too! It was Joey’s first full grooming session and I was pretty happy - no pun intended - that I didn’t have to go through the whole process alone this time around. I tried my best to escape the groomer’s and managed to squeeze my whole body underneath the gate they use to keep all the dogs in. Unfortunately, they have a back up plan for the escapees and my attempts got me placed in a crate. It is really hard to escape a crate. Joey was put into a crate because he was guilty of escaping by association. The groomers say it’s for our own good but I personally disagree.
Anyway, since it was Joey’s first haircut my mom had to give them instructions on what style she wanted for him. She asked them not to cut Joey’s ears or tail. Since his ears go up (mine go down) and his tail kinda goes up too (mine kinda goes down), a trim around those parts wasn’t necessary for him. Plus my mom likes the look he’s got going on right now with the papillon ears and tail. There must have been a little bit of confusion because not only did they not cut Joey’s ears and tail but they didn’t cut mine either. In case you didn’t know it, the main reason my mom even takes me for haircuts is because my ears and tail grow long enough to start dragging on the ground picking up debris. I was so excited to see her when she picked me up that she didn’t even notice until we got home that I was still rocking my grown out ear hairs. Guess the next haircut is gonna come around faster this time. Shucks.
Well, it happened. I got dragged to the dog groomer’s and they cut off my hairs again. I really had gotten too shaggy and on the few hot days we’ve had, I was panting through the heat. I only panted in San Francisco a few times ever. Besides the heat, I was getting all kinds of stuff caught up in my fur and it was just becoming a nuisance. We have a beautiful cherry blossom tree in our backyard that as beautiful as it is, has been dropping debris all over the deck and yard for weeks. My parents were getting a little tired of Joey and me bringing the outdoors in so they took us to get groomed.
The day started out innocently enough with a car ride — which I love — and a walk along a somewhat familiar sidewalk. But once I realized where I was, I put on the brakes and refused to move. My mom had to pick me up and carry me in. Poor Joey didn’t seem to remember the place and walked in on his own accord. Sucker. Somehow he lucked out though and all they did to him was cut his nails and trim around his business areas. I guess he hasn’t gotten as shaggy as me? Maybe I have more papillon in me than he does.
I did really great with the other dogs in the grooming shop and wasn’t afraid of them at all. There was some nice King Charles Cavaliers and a Corgi hanging out there. I do admit to trying to crawl underneath the gate and make an escape but I was caught before I could get out. So a full grooming is what I got. The grooming lady said I was a good boy but did not like having the clippers around my neck. But really, who likes that? Now I’m looking clean cut and pretty darn handsome if I do say so myself. As an added bonus (for my mom), I’m not bringing leaves, flowers, pollen strands, you name it from the yard when I come inside.
Now if only I could figure out a way to get this hair to stop growing so I don’t have to get groomed EVER again. Wish me luck on that.
I recently got my second haircut ever. (You may recall my first haircut earlier this year.) As evidenced in the first two photos above, my ears were so crazy long they had to be pulled back whenever I was given a chewy treat because otherwise I’d end up chewing my ears too. I went back to the same groomers I visited before and let’s just say, I remembered that place. I put on the brakes the second we approached the door. Unfortunately, since I am small my parents simply picked me up and carried me in. I had no choice in the matter. It’s really tough being a dog.
Alas, I was tortured, umm, I mean, groomed. The nice (?) lady who gave me my new ‘do a.k.a. my hairstylist told my mom I did great except for when she brushed out my tail. She said I screamed bloody murder but since I didn’t have any knots in my tail, she said I was just being dramatic. A little drama never hurt anyone, I say. Anyhow, I’m now sporting a sleeker, shorter (but still long-ish) look and my ears and tail aren’t getting in the way anymore. Dogs, when your tail starts picking up more dead leaves than a rake, it might be time for a cut.
Now, what I really wanna know is this — why didn’t Joey have to get a haircut? I hope his hair keeps growing out too so next time he has to join me in all the grooming fun. What’s fair is fair.