Every month or so mom gets a bug up her bottom about how I might not smell as good as I should. So, guess what? Rather than her spraying on some perfume or putting a clothes pin on her nose, I have to be the one to pay the price and head off to the groomer. I mean, while I as a Diva Poodle, are above mere mortal dogs I happen to revel in my own special doggy smell. Apparently Mom doesn't share my thoughts so she packs me into the car and off I go.
In case I didn't mention it, I love a good car ride but for some reason I knew when she was sing-songing about "who wants to go for a car ride?" that it boded ill for me. I'm not sure how I knew but I did. I was right.
She took me to the Old Dogge Inn for a grooming. Sure, the ladies there are very nice but there are too many dogs barking and cats meowing and the shavers are loud and make my skin tingle and I am not fond of the water and shampoo and I WANT MY MOM! But, she doesn't care and leaves me there for the three hours until I am no longer a hostage.
When Mom finally comes back -- even though I am SO mad at her -- I run across the counter, jump into her arms and snuggle in. Once we get home I will shun her and make her feel guilty but for now, I just want her to GET ME OUTTA HERE!
The only good thing about a bath and a haircut is that I do get new clothes out of it all. But, couldn't she just buy me clothes and forgo the bath? Sigh. Apparently not.
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