Haircuts and Dog Treats

I wrote this post last week, and I thought I'd share it now! My dogs are so cute . . .


I spent the last several minutes laughing, and I thought I'd share with you all why.

It's been quite a while since I gave Ralphie a haircut, and I decided today is as good a day as any other to just get it done. So I donned my lovely hair-cutting clothes, put Quincy in her kennel so she wouldn't get Ralphie riled up (he needs no help), and grabbed my little puppy to give him some grooming.



Ralphie does not like haircuts. He's okay if I'm cutting the hair on his back, because I suppose it feels like he's just getting petted.

Then we move to his face. He sits tolerably still while I trim his face, but when I'm not looking he strikes his sneaky pose and tries to scurry away. Then I grab him and drag him back, and it basically makes me feel like a horrible person.

Nothing compared to trying to trim his backside and stomach hair. You would think I'm abusing the poor dog; he gets rather anxious. Every now and then he let out a little humming whine, but mostly he just kicks against me and squirms, occasionally escapes me, and then once again I have to grab whatever leg I can reach and get him back on my lap. I know it doesn't hurt, he just doesn't like it.

He got so worked up today that when I was done I decided to reward him with a treat before continuing to phase two-the bath. Poor thing thought he was done and then I subject him to water. Ralphie also hates baths - I get pretty wet just trying to get him clean.

All of this is pretty amusing, but what really makes me laugh is when I get him out of the bath tub. He looks so skinny, because his hair is all plastered against his little body - as if that wasn't enough, he runs around the house like a mad dog for the next five to ten minutes until his hair is dry, rubbing his face against the floor while he's running. It's hilarious to watch!







Today I thought he looked so cute when he was all wet that I decided I wanted a picture of the little rascal. I made the mistake of setting him down first. He took off, tearing around the house, and I ran after him with the camera, snapping as many pictures as I could while he was moving (it wasn't easy). I finally got him cornered in our room. Or so I thought. He tore around the room and under the bed, and basically tried to get away from me as quickly as possible. Poor Quincy was still in her kennel and started whining - I think she felt left out. The mental picture of what I must look like made me start to crack up! I finally snagged the little guy and took this picture.



Then I let Quincy out of the kennel and lured Ralphie away from his mad dash/attempt at drying to give them both a treat.



Ralphie is finally calmed down now, and I think he's forgiven me, because he started licking my feet as I wrote this. I think the finished product of this episode turned out rather well:



I love my dogs!

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