Tuesday, October 13, 2015

October 13. Day 286. Wash day blues

Being beautiful takes a lot of work, even when you are naturally gorgeous. Salon and spa treatment for Rumple today which takes about five hours of washing and hand scissoring in a process that quite frankly does my head in. While placid by nature, Rumple refuses to sit and let me brush his hair so I can only assume the "stylists" are dog whisperers or use voodoo magic or drugs or something. Or it just might be that Rumple knows I will cave every time and the staff at the grandly named Grand Designs Dog Grooming are made of tougher stuff (then again, just about everyone is made of tougher stuff than I am. Of course I got him home all buffed and polished with the yellow bow in his hair only to be greeted by the visiting beagle who decided there would be none of that soft stuff. He'd spent the day alone and was ready to wrestle. I secretly suspect The Fed had been promised Schmackos by the males of the house if he could do what they are prohibited from doing - remove the bow ASAP. Either way the bow didn't last. But my fur baby is still a picture of canine cuteness and at least with the trim I can look him in the eye and tell him so.

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