The Bad Haircut

Can you see it? Can you see that wild whisker that got missed when I recently went to the groomer?!? I absolutely don't know what all the fuss was about. Big deal. A long whisker. You would have thought the world was going to end. As Charlie Brown would say, "Good grief!" Here's how it happened:

As is my usual habit, I went to see my groomer on Saturday (her name is Bernie and she loves me most of all the dogs she grooms - she tells my lady and my man that every time I go to see her - that's how I know). Well, my lady had slept a little later than usual that morning, so I was late taking my pill. For any of you who might not know, I have a little arthritic condition that makes it very difficult for me to get going in the morning. Well, anyway, I was late taking my pill so when I got to Bernie's, I wasn't quite ready to go through the grooming. When she was shampooing me, I cried out a little because, well, to put it bluntly, it hurt! Well, maybe I need to try that more often because once I let out that yelp, Bernie was all about babying me and not hurting me and all. She said she couldn't bear the thoughts of hurting me more so she did a very abbreviated hair cut. I liked that idea because I absolutely hate having a haircut, especially around my face.

But guess what happend when I got home? My people noticed that unruly whisker and nothing would do but that they snip it off "for me." Yeah, right. I could care less, except that I don't like for anyone to mess with my face. Well, I gave 'em a time getting that whisker snipped. Nevertheless, they did get it whacked off.

The result of this story: my lady does not sleep late on any morning any more. Now that school's out, she even gets up early to give me my pill, then goes back to bed. My lady is a good and caring lady. I'm very lucky. Except she can't stand a stray and wild whisker. Good grief!