Thursday, May 17, 2012
A Day at the Salon
I was in la-la land when I first embarked on dog ownership. I thought I could be my dog's Mom and her groomer.
Oh, how wrong I can be.
At first I lived in ignorant bliss. Pippy was just a puppy and I blamed all crazy hair appearances on "puppy fur". It was a great cop-out. Yes, she looked crazed but it was the puppy fur. Nothing I can do about it. I treated it like a baby teething. I just had to wait it out.
Then the adult fur showed up.
Pippy looked like a clown without eyes. The fur went in every direction and made it impossible to discern where here eyes were located, or if she even had any to begin with. I knew I had to take action. With hair cutting scissors in hand I attempted to eradicate the overgrown locks that were making Pippy look more like a crazed beast then a schnoodle puppy.
I was well intentioned but ill prepared. I had no idea what I was doing or how to accomplish my set goal. I couldn't even begin to cut because I couldn't get Pippy to stay still. She squirmed, shimmied and bolted away. I chased her, held her down and attempted to cut. I knew I didn't have much time so I stuck to the top priority: the bush surrounding the eye. I was able to get a few clips in before she ran again. When I looked at her across the room I could see something I wasn't able to see before. Two big brown eyes. Mission accomplished - for today.
This experience gave me hope that I could restrain her for a longer period of time and cut more fur that had gone crazy. So the next day I tried again. I cut a little more but still, she ran.
After a few more such episodes I got tired of the same scenario, not to mention my hair cutting skills are less than stellar. Pippy's haircut was looking like the equivalent of a five year cutting her own bangs.
It was time to face the facts: Pippy needed a groomer. Some things are better left to the professionals.
I felt like the parent who attempts to home school their child, only to realize a few weeks in that the new arrangement is doomed. It isn't so easy going from Mom to teacher and then back again in time for dinner. I was learning that going from dog Mom to dog groomer was also not such an easy transition either. Some times it's better to know your limits and then accept them - lesson learned.
So, I did a little research, picked a reputable groomer and made an appointment. What a good dog Mom I am.
When I went to pick Pippy up from her appointment I couldn't wait to see her new look. To put it mildly, her style had needed some updating.
Pippy rounded the corner to be presented to me for the first time. I was enamored. She looked like a little fuzzy teddy bear. She had eyes! And cheek bones! The way they cut the fur down her legs and around her feet made it appear as though she had on little ballet flats. She looked perfect!
Except for one thing.
The bows. On top of my dogs head were two green and white St. Patricks day inspired bows perched on each ear. Mind you, it was a month and a half before St. Pat's day, which was the least of my concerns but still a relevant piece of information. I don't even where shamrock apparel on the actual holiday let alone the days or months leading up to that particular March date. So, to see my dog with bows sporting shamrocks threw me for a loop.
I had no idea bows came with the grooming package. Is this like the hair products they try to sell at beauty salons after you get a simple trim? It is never enough just to cut an inch off the ends and then send the customer on their way. Stylists always want to recommend styling gel, volumizing spray and shine serum. Don't even get me started on serums. Every hair stylists swears by a serum that doesn't make even the slightest difference to your hair when you get it home. All it does is leave you with greasy hands. Beware of the over-sold serum.
Bows were starting to look a lot like serum and I was seeing beauty products in little stars around Pippy's head. All I wanted was for her to get a puppy cut and a good shampoo. Now she was coming out looking like Toddlers and Tiara's.
You can imagine the first thing I did when I got home. I removed those bows ASAP. Yes, it required holding Pippy down but I was working on adrenalin. No dog of mine would be wearing those bows.
I had almost forgotten about the garish bows until today when I took Pippy to a new groomer in Sarasota. This place is dog heaven. Not only do they groom your dog but they keep them all day and let them play with other dogs. They run inside and outside in a tricked out dog resort. I was afraid she might never want to come back home again.
As is par for the course, the groomer asked me what kind of cut I would like her to have. I described the look I was going for, specifying that I would like the chin hair to be removed first. Girls shouldn't have chin hair. Leave that for the boy dogs.
Then they asked me the million dollar question: would you like her to have bows?
I hesitated for a moment. Given my experience with bows you would think I would have refused emphatically and without delay but something inside me said, "bows are a hoot". So, I got the bows.
You can remove bows a lot easier then you can remove chin hair.
And you want to know the first thing I did when Pippy got home? Cut the bows off.
But not until after I got a picture.