Brewster Gets a Haircut

Brewster has lived here for a year and a half, and he's never gone to a groomer. Finding a groomer I would trust with a stuffed dog, let alone the Little Dude, is HARD. Some of them insist that you leave the dog all day so they can groom it whenever they get around to it. One refused to let me see the back room where they do the grooming. The groomer/pet supply shop near here would be convenient, but every time I go in there, the groomer has a half-shaved dog on the table and she's across the room reading junk mail and eating Cheetos. So . . . no.

But Little Dude looked like this:

I call this the Crotchety Old Man Look

So we spent the morning near Valley Center at Rags to Ribbons, the groomer associated with Wag'en Tail Ranch, where Brewster and I did obedience training. (Turns out neither of us is very obedient.) The nice ladies let me stand in their shop for 20 minutes last week and ask them annoying, stupid questions ("Would you ever put a dog on the table and then wander off to have a snack?") until I felt like they were good enough and kind enough and smart enough to be trusted with the Dude, who can be a bit of a handful, to put it mildly.

Now he looks like this:

"I'm too sexy for this dumb bandana."*

I'm kind of sad that his mohawk is gone and he smells weird (like, vaguely clean or something), but other than that, I'm pretty happy. And the report from the groomer was that Brewster did not try to mutilate any of his crate mates, and they didn't ban us from the shop, so we're calling that a win.

*Alternative picture captions:
"Lady, put down the g.d. camera and get this flippin thing OFFA ME."
"Do not bother me while I stare sexily into the distance like that dude in the Abercrombie & Fitch ad."