Having a lovely snooze on the rug when mum sneaks up with her scissors and snip, snip, snip, suddenly I’m having my winter trim. Long overdue, she says, I was a shaggy mess and taking too long to dry in this wet winter weather.
I decided I’d just lie there and let her get on with it instead of making a fuss and it all taking so much longer. There was a huge pile of hair when she’d finished – enough for another dog (albeit a small one). She also gave me a brisk brush, which I love, really stimulates my skin and gets rid of the under hair.
So tomorrow, whether I’m at the beach and swimming or over the muddy fields, I’ll be dry in a trice with all that hair gone.
Because it’s been raining such a lot, the fields where we go for some walks are very, very wet and I’m able to tear around and get mega muddy. My mum grumbles but she’s not the one who is hosed down before being let back in the house: made to stand and be raked with freezing cold water.
What, I shake all the water off and she gets soaked too? Huh, she can change her clothes whereas I’m rough dried and left in the kitchen. Fibbing, says mum: okay, she does put me in my microfibre robe which soaks up the rest of the wet and leaves me nice and fluffy. Until the next day, tee hee.
Christmas Day and we were out with the larks – well, early for my mum who likes her bed, and early for the rest of the world as we didn’t see more than six dogs the whole time we were out. The fields were were very muddy so I had the trial of a hose-down back home but I soon dried off in my surf dog robe and settled down for the festivities.
All us four leggeds had smart red ribbon bows on our collars and yummy treats of sausage rolls and smoked salmon. Marley played in a huge present sack and Cleo got high on catnip.
My mum entered into the spirit of Christmas by wearing reindeer antlers on our walk – then sampled a lot of different spirit when we got home. It’s only early evening, but I think she’s gone to bed…
My mum has no shame in the run up to Christmas, puts me through the same indignity every year. Antlers – antlers with jingle bells – I ask you!!
The cats of course will have none of it, especially Marley who was interested when my mum was sporting them on her head but scooted once she tried to put them on him.
If she leaves them around I might be able to despatch them like I did the last pair – chucked them in the air and wrecked them! We dogs have to preserve our dignity.
My mum says I’m spoiled rotten and I have to agree. We went to the pub for Sunday lunch and what do you know – I was treated to beef, again. Oh, it was super delicious, great thick slices with lashings of gravy. I had to dig through the sprouts my mum moved off her plate so it was slow going but I managed to scoff every bit. Except the spouts. If my mum hates them, why does she think I would feel any different?
I waited very patiently while it cooled – see, no dribbles.