Freya's Day of Beauty... and Torture.
Freya was my Mom's dog and Mom insisted on doing the grooming stuff herself. As you can see from the icon, Freya can get a bit wild looking if the grooming is put off for too long. Now, I can handle bathing a dog, but - although I can use power tools without flinching - I can't handle clipping dog hair or (god-forbid) toenails (I have horror stories from helping my Grandmother with her show dogs ::shudders::), and don't even mention that gland thing. So, now that Mom is gone, Freya is going to have to rely on professionals.
This morning I dropped Freya off at the vets. I practically had to drag her into the building. I kept assuring her that there would be no needles involved in this visit, but she clearly didn't believe me. She was trembling so much you'd have thought she was a chihuahua. When the groomer came out to collect her, she hid under my chair and looked at me with betrayal.
I felt like scum.
Four hours later I got the call to pick her up. She was thrilled to see me, practically leaping from the groomer's arms into mine - still trembling. The groomer laughed and said she'd done very well, even rolling over at one point to get her belly scratched. She even deigned to eat a treat. And yet now she was looking at me as if I was rescuing her from the Spanish Inquisition. Who to believe?!?!
I felt like scum. Again.
But she's so cute and girly! Bows in her hair (a first for her). A bandanna that doesn't dwarf her. And she smells soooo good, like baby powder.
The glamor shot:
CUTIE!
Tyr thinks she smells strange:
It's tiring being this beautiful:
The bows will be gone by bedtime. The cats are fascinated by them.
This morning I dropped Freya off at the vets. I practically had to drag her into the building. I kept assuring her that there would be no needles involved in this visit, but she clearly didn't believe me. She was trembling so much you'd have thought she was a chihuahua. When the groomer came out to collect her, she hid under my chair and looked at me with betrayal.
I felt like scum.
Four hours later I got the call to pick her up. She was thrilled to see me, practically leaping from the groomer's arms into mine - still trembling. The groomer laughed and said she'd done very well, even rolling over at one point to get her belly scratched. She even deigned to eat a treat. And yet now she was looking at me as if I was rescuing her from the Spanish Inquisition. Who to believe?!?!
I felt like scum. Again.
But she's so cute and girly! Bows in her hair (a first for her). A bandanna that doesn't dwarf her. And she smells soooo good, like baby powder.
The glamor shot:
CUTIE!
Tyr thinks she smells strange:
It's tiring being this beautiful:
The bows will be gone by bedtime. The cats are fascinated by them.