I am traumatised

Now usually my mum trims me herself, makes me stand still while she cuts or sometimes – and I prefer this – works around me with scissors while I’m lying peacefully thinking doggy thoughts.

Settled in

After the trauma

For a treat (for whom??) she decided to book me in for a professional groom.  I won’t mention the name of the salon because I made a bit of a fuss and don’t think they will want me back.  I was nervous from the start.  Got to the door then realised this could be the vet, lino on the floor an all, funny smells, tables, oh ho; tried to back out but mum was having none of it.  She gave her instructions – don’t want him shaved to the skin, want feathers thinned out etc – then LEFT.  Left me all on my own with strangers in a strange place.  Huh, I’ll show her, I thought!

She comes back after an hour by which time they have me in a see-through bath contraption and, not only are they spraying me warm water, they’re rubbing me all over with girly shampoo.  That, after being frightened with a buzzy thing they used to trim me.  It was AWFUL and I was whimpering pityfully; really, really traumatised.

My mum looked awfully guilty and said they should towel me off and I would walk home wet cos one thing I’m really scared of is the hairdryer.

She can’t understand why I will splash happily into the sea, a pool on the beach or a muddy puddle but don’t like anybody putting water on me.  She should stand in the yard and be hosed down with cold water and see how she likes it!  There’s no difference, she says.  Huh.

Somehow I don’t think I’ll be going to the poodle parlour any more!


I am five

Can you believe it: I’m five now.  Had a wonderful day with sun, beach and swim – my favourite things.


Me at eight weeks – brought home in a cat basket!!!  And now I’m five – could eat a cat basket for breakfast!

ist day (2)

We have a new cat…

P1080327I thought life was bad with our original cat, Sherry, but the new one is ten times worse and twice as heavy.  Marley it’s called – a big brute of a silver tabby.  My mum was very upset when Sherry died as she’d been rescued from a shelter and with her for 14 years.  The Irish cousins loaned one of theirs for a few days then Mum brought home Marley who is six and had a lovely home but too many kids.

He didn’t like me sniffing around his purty fur so I got quite a few whacks and hisses.  Who would have thought I’d wish the madam was back!

Cat gallery    https://dogwuff.wordpress.com/cat-ii/