Dogs and Haircuts

Part 1

My brother gave me a white toy poodle for my 16th birthday, Buffee. He was probably a typical poodle, uppity, sometimes even nasty. (Like the time he wet on the visiting neighbor lady's leg.) But I loved him and he loved me. He was great, I thought so anyway!!

Haircut time was pure humiliation for him. We'd take him to Mrs. Taylor. She'd trim him up and always, ALWAYS, tied ribbons to his ears. We'd bring him home and he'd head straight for his hiding spot, under the couch. And he'd stay there. We discovered though that if we made a big deal about how cute he was with his new do he'd prance around and show off and never go under the couch. I guess that's something about poodles, they're a vain breed. Maybe it was the bows, I mean what guy would like to have cute little ribbons tied to his ears?

Part 2

We have a toy poodle now. His name is Bear, like the teddy bear he resembled when we got him. He is a typical poodle, uppity, sometimes even nasty. But we love him and he loves me, he knows who he can really count on to feed him, walk him, do all of the essentials for him which includes hand feeding him but that's a whole other story.

He needed a haircut. I can tell because I'm allergic to him (all I can say is, "what some people will do to make their children happy!") and when his fur starts to get long I start to sneeze and wheeze. I can also tell because when the weather gets warm he starts to pant - like a dog - joke, joke!! So he needed a haircut. I called Carrie the haircutter several times but there was no answer. That's when I started thinking about Susan, a woman I admire so much. She told me one time that she often cut her dog's hair herself. "I just follow the pattern that the haircutter did, nothing to it." Well, why not give it a try?

I put Mr. Bear in the laundry sink, got my hair clippers and gave it a go. Those hair clippers didn't even make a dent in his furry problem so I got a pair of scissors and started to trim away. I trimmed his tummy first because it's a hidden area and I also thought he'd fight me like mad and I wouldn't be able to trim much fur. Well, he just stood there and let me trim away. Actually he looked rather pathetic - maybe doomed is a better word. Anyway I trimmed as far down on his tummy as I could go while he was standing in the sink and then I started on his back. Again he just stood there and let me cut. My idea was to just shorten his fur but I quickly discovered that it worked better if I cut close to the skin so I did. Occasionally I'd pinch some skin with the scissors and he'd quickly let me know that he didn't like that but then he'd go back to standing still. It was all going to well until I got to some difficult parts like his legs and feet. I did my best and standing back I thought it looked pretty darn good.

I gave him a bath. He did his usual tear around the house and rub the nose on the carpet thing to help him dry off. To my horror he looked worse than awful. All of the fur I had missed stood up at odd angles. The places where the scissors had cut especially close were white lines. His mustache was longer and fuller on one side. His ears didn't match at all.

And he was done with me and my scissors.

We went to bed hoping that in the light of morning he would look better, like maybe it was just a bad dream or a nightmare!! NO SUCH LUCK!!

My first phone call this morning was to Carrie who just happened to be back from vacation and could cut him at 9:30 am. She laughed and laughed and then wisely said, "You just never know what this recession will drive people to do!" and then she added, "Now you probably appreciate what skill professional dog groomers have."

She trimmed him up, we call it a buzz, and I tipped her handsomely!