A few weeks ago, I spread an old sheet on the kitchen floor and opened a cardboard box that held hair-cutting shears and scissors. It was once again time for me to cut the hair of my husband and son and dog.
My barber shop-grooming station was open once again.
I usually go ahead and buzz my husband and son's hair first because it takes only a few minutes. I then get down to the long, tedious process of cutting our cocker spaniel Bayley's fur.
As soon as Bayley sees the sheet, he runs away and begins to cower and shake in a corner. He knows that as soon as the other two are done, I will be calling for him.
He is outnumbered by the four humans in the house and soon is coaxed out of his hiding place, sometimes with a treat for a bribe. Other times, we just crowd him out by making it uncomfortable for him to stay in his hiding place.
As soon as Bayley finally makes his way over to the sheet on the floor, I place a muzzle on his face and give him a big, reassuring hug. The use of a muzzle began a few years ago when Bayley was going through a rebellious stage. He was profoundly against baths and haircuts and would snap and snarl at us as we attempted to do any sort of grooming.
I even wrote a poem about it during that time;
You woof and you snarl,
you bark and you growl
and think we are to
love you somehow!
After many months of this, I gave in and took him to the vet for a grooming. I told them up front how he acted when we tried to do it.
They told us they might need to sedate him to groom him if he got that way with them, which he did. We brought a sleepy, well-groomed dog home that afternoon.
Even though the vet assured me that it was better for Bayley to be sedated than to become so stressed over a routine thing such as a haircut and bath, I was not convinced it was best for our dog.
I continued to consider other options, finally deciding to see how a muzzle would work in our situation. After placing the muzzle on his face, I begin the hardest part of his grooming: cutting around his paws and paw pads. This part drives him crazy, and he jerks and jumps around in his attempt to break free. I guess it tickles. At times it has taken all four of us holding him down for me to safely use the scissors and shears.
When I am done with the paws, I move on to the ears and his face. He does not like this part either but tolerates it better than he does the paws.
Lastly, I try to get his tummy fur and his back.
Somewhere in here, he relaxes. I think it actually feels good to him like a good tummy or back scratch might.
He has even fallen asleep during that part.
When we are done, I remove the muzzle and give him one last big hug before releasing him. Instantly, he runs around like crazy, shaking himself and rubbing his face along the carpet.
I think he knows that we are trying to help him in some way but just does not like the process of getting it done. He always looks and smells much better after a good haircut, and I think he knows it.
We always joke that the pile of fur removed from that one dog is enough to make another puppy or two.
So, as I put away the scissors, shears and sheet, I find myself thankful - thankful that it will be another month or two before I have to DO IT AGAIN!
Linda Vestal is a wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend living in Gibsonville. Contact her with comments or story ideas at lindavestal@triad.rr.com.
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