Musings on life by Bella (the cat-dog, so nicknamed for her doggie nature and cat-like snark)
Sunday was traumatic, as it was marked by the inconsistently timed ritual known as grooming. If my human were better at planning, perhaps I would be able to prepare or foil her attempts at grooming me. But sadly, the randomness allows her to catch me unaware. So sneaky.
First, there is the bath. This, my friends, this is the place of terror.
I once escaped the bonds of the plastic prison and led my person on a jolly (and wet) chase around the living room…only to be lured back to the tub by treats. Alas, the treats, they are my greatest weakness.
Sometimes the grooming ends there and I am rewarded with treats. But I was not that fortunate on Sunday, as my person decided that I was in need of a haircut.
I did go to PetSmart once to get a haircut. But they tied me up and muzzled me, which I did not appreciate at all…apparently I gave them a “hard time.” So now, my enterprising person has (for better or for worse) taken over my grooming. There are no muzzles or leashes. However, there are rules:
1) No talking – It is my understanding that people generally converse with their hairdresser. However, my person greatly frowns upon any attempt at conversation or diversion during haircuts….really people, a growl could mean so many things.
2) No biting – Not that I would ever bite. Sometimes, I think about it. I open my mouth just a little – testing to see if my person notices. When she gives me that look (that look that says that she controls my treats), I masterfully turn my open mouth into a yawn. We do this several times throughout the haircut and by the end it is terribly amusing. I would laugh if I could, but see rule #1.
3) Treats are given during the grooming process and…at the end! This is what makes it all worthwhile. My person tells me I’m a pretty girl (duh), puts my collar back on (a sign that the trauma is over), and gives me more treats.
Let us hope that this is my last bath and haircut of the year…