The hair of the dog!

Hi there -- I hope you are doing fabulous on this lovely evening!

As for me, I am sitting here next to the unhappy pup, listening as Dr. Phil fixes some rude teens on the TV. I love TV -- I watch it far too much. I think I am addicted to the hope that I, too, will tidily resolving all the conflicts of my day in a single 30-60 minute time slot.

Do you ever wish that life would imitate "art" in this way?

I think Brooklyn does. At the moment she looks like she has leprosy or something. I never knew a dog could be so vain! She has been skulking around the house all day. I think she knows it is going to take a good long time for her beautiful latte-colored curls to grow back. Those bald patches really do make her look like she got into a fight with a week whacker, and the whacker won.

Yesterday started out so uneventfully. Matt was playing his computer game, we had some coffee; I took Brooklyn for a nice walk through the park.

I was feeling a bit down, missing our family, and I shared this with Matt. I decided to work out since that never fails to make me feel better.

Matt decided that he would do something nice to surprise me. Brooklyn's coat was getting a bit matted so he set about giving her a trim.

This is not the first time Matt has cut Brooklyn's hair. He's done it a couple of times now, both with rather disastrous results. And yet, all I've been able to say is "Thank you, Sweetie, for taking care of that chore".

To be honest, I would much rather he vacuum the house. Or clean the bathrooms. Or do just about anything else that needs to be done. (and that's a list that has lots of choices on it!)

But do I tell him this? Oh, no.

Why don't I tell him this? For goodness sake, he spent nearly 3 hours shaving the dog and she looks WORSE than when he started. Heck, I finished working out, showered, got a drink, tidied up the downstairs, and then joined him for a good 45 minutes while he continued to whack at her curls. And I sat there while he kept chopping away.

This weird thing happens sometimes when Matt takes his "wakey" meds: he gets so engrossed in even the simplest task that he literally can not put it down. About 2 1/2 hours into Brooklyn's "trim", I realized that this was what was happening.

So I asked him "So, Hunny, how do you know when you are finished cutting her hair?".

The pup's ears perked up, and I blotted at a couple of bald patches that were starting to bleed a little.

"Uh, I don't know. I just keep pulling up the hair and trimming until it looks like it doesn't need anymore. Hmm, I've got a couple of bald spots here" Matt replied. "Maybe I should stop and just shave it all off the next time? It will be much easier next week now that I've done all this!".

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea" I said. But what I was thinking was "thank God!"

I don't think I can print what Brooklyn was thinking.

So now I need to figure out a gentle and kind way of re-directing Matt's attention to a different task next weekend. Perhaps the car needs an oil change? I really need to find a sufficiently manly chore.

Winter comes soon and that doggy is way too vain to let me put her in a jacket!