Over the weekend, I was mildly intoxicated and decided I wanted him to be pretty and white and fluffy again. I started on his face with a pair of scissors, thinking I was just going to trim a bit so he could see until I got him to a groomer during the week. It looked nice, at least in my intoxicated mind, so I thought it would be a good idea to keep going. I have about 4 sets of clippers left from my days in the hair salon and keep one reserved for dog hair, so I grabbed that set and a bag of dog treats. "I'll just trim a bit down from all over and leave his tail nice and fluffy," I thought. The clippers disagreed with a, "Nnnnnnnnrrrrrrrrrfffffff," as they became entangled with mounds of fluff. I stopped for a moment to clear the tangle and got back to work. I was halfway there, with his back looking nice and short and soft. All I had to do was get his belly and legs, then I'd be done and could bathe him. All of the rest would blend together afterwards and he'd look wonderful!
"Nnnnnnnnnrrrffffffftttttt." The clippers sputtered their dying breath as I begged them to keep going. I gave up, did a bit of touching up with the scissors, and thought again that he would look fine after everything blended together after a good shampoo.
It didn't. As you can see, it looked far from great. What do I do now? Let it grow back? Take him to a new groomer and claim he's a stray? Blame my children? I can't say he did it himself, can I? Plenty of parents tried to pull that one on me, but unlike a child, the dog can't snitch. Dogs aren't capable of cutting their own hair, either. In the words of my cosmetology teacher all those years ago, "It'll blend. It'll blend."
