Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Ah, the Pageantry!

Well, I was hoping to post another photo of a completely shaved Primary Dog, but it turns out he really does hate having his legs messed with. I must have sat on the floor for an hour, letting him eat treats near the electric trimmer, then on the trimmer when it was off, then on the trimmer when it was on, etc., but he's still afraid/annoyed when I put the trimmer near his legs. I wonder if the groomer accidentally nicked him in the past. Oh, and the sweet doggie really hates having his collar pulled. That much I already knew, but I'm forgetful sometimes. No bites, but he did remind me with a slight growl. Wouldn't it be great if a dog could tell people about his past? "I'm terribly sorry, but some meanie used to yank me around by my collar when I was a pup. I've never really gotten over it, but don't take it personally." I would love that. Also, hmm. Maybe I should make more friends.

So in lieu of a dog picture, which probably interests me more than it interests you (if it does at all), here are some other swell images.

From the lovely rose garden at Balboa Park.

A beautiful princess, probably having her photo taken for her QuinceaƱera.

The kiddo, scoring a run.

Sunday, June 07, 2009

And It Took Me Only Two Hours (Cough)

Here's the primary dog, mid-shave. He requested a modesty patch, so I gave him one, even though his privates are pretty teeny. Don't tell him that, though; he's sensitive.

I shaved almost all of his main body down to fuzz, but I had to quit because he's a bit snippy about having this leg fur trimmed. He may wind up with some groovy go-go boots. Either that, or I'm going to muzzle him and just get it over with. I wonder how the groomer does it.

Most likely the primary dog will get to keep his (trimmed) head and tail fur. No sense in depriving him of all his cuteness. Let's face it: The guy's looking like one of those scary hairless cats and enough is enough.

The auxiliary dog has escaped the trimmer, although she probably wishes she were getting a haircut. The girl will do anything for attention. That ho.

Thursday, June 04, 2009

As Promised

So here they are: Auxiliary Dog and Primary Dog. Don't they look happy? No, those aren't their real names. They're afraid the media will start camping out on our doorstep if I reveal their true identities. I tried photographing them at their own level, but they were impossible to work with. Camera in front of them = scary. Camera over their heads = treat! Alrighty then.

Primary Dog (the white one on the right) is the one who's getting shaved. He's a maltipoo or something like that, and his fur is extremely fine and fluffy. This means MATS GALORE. Add nonstop growth and you're in for some fun. I already shaved his underside down to his soft, pink skin. The kiddo thought it was funny when I shaved the dog's p*nis, but that's what the groomer does, and with good reason. 'Nuff said about that! Auxiliary Dog's fur grows to just one length (seen here at maximum length), so she just needs washing and brushing once in a while. What she lacks in coat management difficulty she makes up for in whining, people-food sneaking and indoor puking. The girl's got skillz.

I must admit I'm having fun shaving Primary Dog. There's something very satisfying about watching the mats fall to the floor and seeing the pooch shake and prance around the room. Granted, it's nothing like the major mat cases on Animal Cops, but he does enjoy the attention and the subsequent lightness/freedom.

So now you know what I'll be doing this weekend. Well, besides watching my son play in the minors invitational game on Saturday morning and maybe getting my nails done for the first time in forever. (I wonder if the dogs would tolerate nail polish. Hmm.)

You want my glamorous life. I know it! :-)

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

I May Need to Put Sunblock on the Dog Soon

I got paid yesterday and hauled the kiddo to Wal-Mart for a few essentials. While there, I got the urge to treat myself. I bought a can of macadamia nuts and was reminded of the scene from *It Could Happen to You* in which Bridget Fonda learns that the cop wants to split his winning lottery ticket with her in lieu of a tip, as he had promised, so she goes shopping, comes home to her super-cute-yet-humble apartment, sighs happily and opens the jar of macadamia nuts she splurged on for the occasion.

I kinda got a kick out of that association. Then I came back to reality and bought an electric trimmer so I could shave my dog.

Photos forthcoming.