After a morning full of grooming, light was just peering from the end of the tunnel. All three of us started the closing ritual of cleaning, sanitizing and picking up from the daily chaos. A few minutes into this ritual an unannounced visitor strolls into our lobby. Their stood a middle aged woman, kid hanging off her leg like some form of primate and a tornado of black and tan fur in her arms. It appeared to be a yorkie-like creature; however it obviously played way to close to the power lines and was probably Amish. Trying to camouflage the inevitable eye roll, I escaped to the back room and let the other two groomers hear her spiel.
While scrubbing kennels and having a deep meaningful conversation with the current boarders, one of my coworkers flew past giggling and shaking her head. Obviously, she too wasn’t going to be able to contain herself and had hidden to save face. I assumed it was the traditional “my dogs not matted” or “I want a puppy cut” that had amused her so. Not paying much attention I went back to my cleaning as the other girl brought the whirlwind back to a kennel. Then both girls broke out into laughter and encouraged me to read the grooming instructions in our computer system.
Without a word and understanding that I had been nominated to groom this late minute walk-in, I went to the computer to see what all the fuss was about. In bold lettering, and making me turn slightly red was “SENSITVE SCROTUM, HASN’T HAD SEX.” In shock, my head whipped around to the peanut gallery behind me barley containing their laughter. Apparently, this client with young daughter in tow had stood at the front counter and informed us that her Chernobyl yorkie can be a little funny about his sanitary, because he’s never had sex and still has those two tumors…oops I mean man-bits. Silently, I asked the universe why such examples of the human race were allowed to procreate and knew that this creature is probably going to require holy water.
It turned out that holy water would have been the minimal approach. It required an old priest, a young priest, a rabbi and a Buddhist monk to cleanse all its screaming, biting, clawing demons. The yorkie was allergic to water and drying as it gator rolled and bared it pearly whites. I couldn’t help, but laugh at the ridiculousness of his behavior and add in my sarcastic way “Look here little man, I’ve been married for a decade with two kids and I’m still dealing with you IN SPITE of having sex.” Once again, while not in sight the peanut gallery could be heard expressing their amusement,
After our baptism of water and cries to the heavens, the fun process of grooming the tornado terrier lay in front of me. Apparently, his Jim Dandies aren’t the only things that were “sensitive” since he protested about every aspect of the entire groom. Nails, face and brushing were all met with snapping and an attempt to re-arrange my face. Jokingly, I alluded to the fact that perhaps his mother may have it all wrong and her entire dog is just one big male part, because he surely was acting like one. The other girls were dying and making humorous grooming notes to that effect in our system.
With a wing and a prayer, the dog was finished and the owner was called. Once again she made her entrance with her monkey hanging off her and acting a bit feral. Like every great last minute walk-in she questioned the price and what exactly was preformed, despite her admittedly being turned away from several other establishments. Once the bail money was met we fetched her precious bundle of teeth. After the make-out and showering of affection she posed the dreaded question “Was he good?” Suddenly the peanut gallery all looked at me and awaited my response. With I slight pause, I said “He’s a little spitfire, but aren’t all little terrorist terriers.” Without skipping a beat I handed her the information on our local low cost spay and neuter clinic, along with our dental hygienist information. I figured I’d provide some treatment options for those two tumors and since he has a fondness for employing his pearly whites they might as well be in tip top shape.