I was all excited when the door bell rang this morning. Visitors! I love visitors! But no, it was the postman (in shorts, can you believe, in just 5c?) with a parcel which my mum said I wouldn’t like.
Me, not like a parcel? What could it contain? The dog clippers of course!
She unpacked them straight away and lured me into the kitchen so I couldn’t escape. After a few false starts – getting the right comb for my long hair – she was off…down my back, under my tum, zizzing my chest, round my bum then a hand finish with scissors for my ears and feathers.
Do you know, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected. The noise wasn’t frighteningly loud like a vacuum cleaner or hairdryer and the action of the machine was a bit like a brush, which I love. I got a bit nervous when she did under my chin but it was over in a trice.
Now I look really smart for the summer and won’t get nearly so hot as I do when I’m bearing my winter coat. Mum put some of the clippings on the summerhouse roof so that birds could have my hair for their nests. I suppose you would call that recycling.
My previous thoughts on dog grooming