Our 9-year-old Lhasa-Poo, Emily, doesn’t have many talents, unless you count growing enormous amounts of hair. Also tangling that hair into impossibly dense mats and using it to attract half-eaten suckers in the back yard.
Even though her hair grows at an alarming rate, I still can’t quite get on board with taking her to the groomer on a regular basis. It began out of necessity when Monte and I were a couple of broke newlyweds, and even though I’ve gone the groomer route on a few occasions, overall it’s a task that I’ve stubbornly clung to. It’s a pride thing, and after years of practice, I’m happy to report that I’m able to give this mop of a dog a respectable haircut. It wasn’t always that way though.
On my first ever attempt, I hit a home run. I’m not normally one to brag, but I crushed it. Really. Maybe it was the soft puppy hair or the fact that it took me 2 hours of cutting with a pair of pink
scissors and the pop-up trimmer on Monte’s old electric razor, but I gave her a haircut better than anything I’ve been able
to replicate since. A couple months later, riding high on that wave of confidence, I splurged on a proper set of clippers in order to tackle the next cut. Having previously performed the dog grooming equivalent of mowing an entire lawn with a weed whacker, I was anxious to see what I could accomplish with the proper tool.
I decided to cut Emily’s hair one evening, and since I was still getting used to the new clippers, it turned out kind of uneven. The next day while Monte was at work I attempted to rectify the situation.
Me: I ruined Emily.
Me: I tried to cut her hair some more and shaved the side of her mouth.
Monte: We’ll fix it tonight. Just don’t cut any more.
5 minutes later
Me: I tried to fix it again. I shaved the other side of her mouth. Now she looks like a mouse!
Monte: Sigh. We’ll fix it tonight. It can’t be that bad. (it totally was)
Me: Her whiskers are so short that they’re stabbing me. She’s like a blowfish. I’ll just fix it the best I can. She looks ridiculous.
While I wasn’t laughing at the time, everyone ended up getting a laugh at my expense (and Emily’s). At least she didn’t know 🙂 Through ups and downs, through good days and bad, that fluffy mop has always had my back.
Have you ever attempted to give your dog a haircut? Share your results in the comments!
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