Amos-ina

Amos needed some attention that I couldn't fully give him today in the form of a hair brush and a pair of scissors. With Big Daddy Warbucks (from Annie if you recall) away and Brooks taking up every minute of my day Amos' need for a hair-do just wasn't my top priority today. I called his usual hair dresser and she was booked so we did the unthinkable....dun dun duuuu (the sounds of a piano when you are anticipating something huge)....we called PetSmart. I am one of those that think that your dog knows a situation before it comes about. Amos can smell a sketchy person from a block away just like he can smell a bad haircut the moment he looks the barber in the eye. And this was one of those days. Amos spread is 4 legs wide as if his split position might actually stop his legs from going through the door to the grooming salon. He tried his darndest to run right back out the door once I finally got him in but his poor nails just scraped the slick floor getting him nowhere but closer to Edward ScissorHands.
I should have known from the questions presented to me by the groomer himself that this would be a disaster. Needless to say, Amos needed a hair makeover and I couldn't give it to him so I left him for the day and crossed my fingers that my assumptions would be wrong.

Waiting
Waiting

More Waiting

Finally nearly 6 hours later I get a call saying that Amos was ready to go home. I bet he was. I hurried to PetSmart and as the groomer (if you can even call him that) rang me up and motioned for one of his tech's to bring Amos out he said, "Well I hope you like him." And somehow in that moment I knew poor Amos had a rough afternoon with the crazy dog groomer. Amos came racing through the grooming room and nearly scaled the mini-door to get to me. Sadly, I was so confused by what I thought was my dog that I didn't really have a word to say. Amos was wearing a skirt of hair around his belly while the rest of his body was shaved to the skin. I hesitated just leaving with my once-cute Wheaten but I just had to make sure I wasn't crazy. "Is he wearing a skirt?" I asked the hair-artist. "Yes, we left him a skirt."

Enough said.

I did ask that they trim off his little dress so I could take him out in public to which they said they did but when I came back 30 minutes later my boy dog was still wearing girl clothes in the form of hair. This picture doesn't quite capture the job not-so-well done but if you look about half way down his body you will see where his hair is nearly 3 inches longer than the rest of his body. Poor poor Amos. No worries, I did give him a kong with peanut butter to make up for his terrible day at the groomers. He has forgiven me and I have learned my lesson. Spend the extra 20 bucks and wait a whole day for your usuall groomer to have an opening. Poor poor Amos-ina.