I love going to Lodi to visit my Border Collie cousins, Parker and Admiral Nelson. My dad, Bobby, calls us the black and white brotherhood. My Uncle Shaun is the best, too. I really enjoy just hanging out with him, either on the couch or on the deck. Whenever I see him, I have to jump all over him to show how excited I am to be there. My Aunt Randi is great, too. That is until she decides to take me to her basement.
It is there where the torture takes place. In case you don’t know, Aunt Randi is a professional groomer. She works at Forever Friends in Grafton, Ohio. I can’t believe it, but she gets paid to torture dogs for a living. (I have heard she grooms cats, too, but as far as I’m concerned cats deserve to be tortured!) O.K. maybe torture is a bit strong. But take it from me, dogs would rather roll around in something deliciously stinky than get a bath with all that foo-foo scented stuff.
Anyhow, I didn’t really have much of a say about it. My mom, Wendi, gets it in her head that I need a bath and then Aunt Randi gives me one! Seriously, it’s like a conspiracy. So the other day, when Dad and Uncle Shaun were preparing things for the Easter dinner, Aunt Randi took me to her basement of doom.
I pity my poor cousins, because word has it, they get baths a lot, because in the summer they are always jumping into their salt water pool and swimming around. In the fall and spring, their fenced in yard gets really muddy and they like to play a lot! Did I say, a lot? I mean a lot! (Nelson has created his own little path in the yard.) Aunt Randi has this whole setup in her basement that makes it easy for her to groom them. She has a table and a bath tub and heated water. She does this grindy thing with a dremel to grind down nails. And combs and brushes and shavers and…I’ve got to stop, I’m getting nervous just thinking about it!
I guess I should be glad I’m not a labradoodle or bichon. I couldn’t stand the thought of a bath and haircut every 6 weeks! I have heard that my sister, Madison, who was a chow/husky/shepherd mix, hated to be groomed. Aunt Randi was always lecturing Mom about needing to comb her out. Boy, am I glad that isn’t me!
I know I shouldn’t complain so much. I mean at least it doesn’t cost me anything to get a shampoo and pedicure. I know humans pay a lot for those kind of things. Still I am always glad when Aunt Randi ties a bandana around my neck. It means the torture is almost done. Then I’m free at last!
