Oh, boy. When it
comes time to groom Biggie, it always begins with a major struggle and ends
with a happy dog. I believe many dog
owners know what I am talking about.
For Biggie there is a fear of water, and consequently a fear of a
bath. Somehow, someway, he knows when
he is going to get a bath, and he immediately bolts under the bed at the very
center near the headboard where he can’t be reached from either side. And almost nothing will coax him out from
there.
For a long time trickery was our greatest asset. Biggie likes to get treats, and he responds to
the rustle of a bag in the kitchen instantly.
Just open the refrigerator door and he is there. Open a pantry door and he appears underfoot
as if by magic. All of these were used
effectively to lure him from under the bed at bath time, until recently. Now if he suspects a bath is in order, not
even a meaty beef rib bone will draw him out.
Once he is in the bath, he enjoys getting attention and a
massage. And afterward he loves the
blowdryer. When everything is done, he
runs up to anyone around to show off how fluffy and soft he is. And soft he is. Like a cloud. Needless to
say, this gets him a lot of petting, and he is one very happy dog.
The haircut is a different story. He just doesn’t like a haircut no matter how you slice it. It takes both Rachael and me to control most
of him during the process. The rest is
done by use of a muzzle. I really don’t
like muzzling Biggie, but I really don’t like getting bit either. Little dog, big bite. He will tolerate trimming his body hair to
some degree, but legs are a different story—and paws are a book of their
own. (We’re not even going into the art
and science of nail trimming.) When it
comes to trimming his face, the muzzle has to come off, and then only my wife
can get the job done. Let me tell you,
I hate giving him a haircut more than he hates receiving it. When it comes to haircut time, I want to
crawl under the bed. If I could manage
that, not even a meaty beef rib bone could draw me out.
I like having a dog, and having a part-time dog is perfect
for me. Sometimes I feel as though he
is over here a bit too much, but when he is with his owner, I miss
him—usually. The advantage to sharing a
dog is being able to go somewhere without worrying if he is okay—usually.
I just looked back down at Biggie sleeping beside me, and
again I thought, “He needs a haircut.”
Maybe we will go for a ride in the car instead.
