I'm referring to Noli, of course, my seven pounder maltipom who, up until now, has been solely groomed by moi. Common reactions when people in my building see her after her spring haircut:
"She lost so much weight, is she okay?"
"I have a terrific groomer if you want his card."
"You butchered her!"
And the ever-popular, "It'll grow back." [fake smile]
I just couldn't see spending more on her haircut than mine. Also I was perpetually broke. But now that I'm 30 I have my finances under control, payin' my bills on time and being Miss Independent and all that (quite obviously, Ne-Yo thinks of me when he sings that song), so I splurged this season and made an appointment at PetSmart. It was only $45, compared to $60 and upwards at boutique places in the city, so I figured I could handle it.
By the time I took Noli in, her hair was turning into show dog wannabe length, emphasis on the wannabe because, since I normally groom her, it looked kinda scraggly. Plus it was all in her eyes and I was constantly struggling to push it down around her nose so she could see.
"Mommy, I can't see and I have alfalfa hair. Plus Cousin Dickens is trying to steal my spotlight.
Can you please deal with this?"
"Mommy, this is better. I prefer to take up most of the frame. But see how this hair is still sticking in my eye? Seriously, fix the problem. And get me a tiara while you're at it. Bacon flavored is best."
So I dropped her off first thing Saturday morning, all proud of my Baby Gurl for being so brave. The other dogs were barking and jumping, and she started shaking in my arms. It was so sad passing her off to the groomer. So I lingered in the shopping center for a couple of hours (and bought some great stuff! Going to attempt the romper this year. The Roomie says I look like I'm trying to be 22.) then went to check on her, but they hadn't even started. So I decided to go home, and it made me so sad to leave her. (My kids are going to hate me, aren't they?) The Roomie consoled me and predicted Noli would cower with shame when she got home, like I'd stripped her naked or something.
I called a couple of times to check in, and finally she was ready for pick-up. (The groomers are going to hate me, aren't they?) When I arrived they were finishing up her nails, which I guess they had forgotten to do. I hid behind the cash register and watched her (i.e., took pictures, I am SUCH the annoying mom type).
Noli hangin' out on the table, acting totally fine.
Noli wagging her tail and shaking her leg, obviously having a good time and not a care in the world.
Shoot, I've been spotted. It's all over. Crying and shaking commences.
When I paid for the grooming I noticed it was more than I'd expected, and then I saw the "handling fee."
"What is this?" I asked the groomer.
"I had to have someone hold her, she was kinda crazy when we cut her face."
That's my girl, seven pounds of ferociousness when it comes to her most important feature.
Of course that evening she pooped on the floor, but she sure looked pretty doing it! And no shame with this girl. She pranced all over the place.
"Profile shot, please. Plus I'm not talking to you right now."
Every time I took her out she ran to any person we passed and jumped around, trying to get their attention. Reactions included:
"She's soooooooo pretty!"
"Where did you take her? She looks so white!"
"Well somebody's been coiffed!"
"I'm so glad you finally took her to a professional."
So I guess this is a permanent thing now. My own hair? That's another story. (I gave myself highlights a couple of days ago. But they turned out okay! I think...)