Here’s the thing. Shiba Inus hate water. Not on the inside, of course. I mean, we love to drink the stuff. It’s on the outside where we have a problem. We are so water-averse that we walk around puddles.
And that’s the big issue with dog grooming. It’s not the nail trimming or the ear cleaning or the teeth brushing or even the de-shedding tool. It’s the bath. If dog grooming meant everything but that last part, it would be a hit. Instead, it’s a run – as fast as you can in the opposite direction.
Too bad Mom doesn’t get it. Every five weeks, Riley and I get groomed. Darlene, our groomer, is nice enough. She drives her big pink dog grooming bus to our house so we don’t have to be taken anywhere.
I know, I know. Riley once blogged that we are driven to the groomer. But, Mom changed that. Now, the deed is done in the driveway. And, once she puts us inside the bus, things go downhill fast.
It’s the same routine each time. Creatures of habit and all that. I’m personally very stoic. I just sit there and take it. No fuss. No muss. Get the thing over with.
Then there’s my brother. He’s quite the drama boy so his bath is always a major production. It has three parts. Act I is the “I’m too cute to be bathed” scene where Riley tries to get out of it by being cloyingly adorable. Act II is “I’m dead weight” where he hopes inertness will save him. Finally, in Act III, we are treated to the “I’m freaking desperate” spectacle, where he ends up on top of the groomer’s head.
Of course, the show ends the same way every time. Like me, he gets the water treatment.
I know there are worse things than dog grooming. It’s just that, once every five weeks, I can’t think of what they are.
See you on the left side. Even you dog grooming people.