Pup must go to the Groomer. There is no putting it off.
He has started to look like he is molting and his usual sweet smelling hair ( poodles have hair, not fur) is starting to have that doggy aroma that just doesn’t thrill me.
Although it does seem to attract some of the other doggies in the park, sometimes too much so. Maybe they won’t be as attracted to a well-groomed pup that smells pleasant, less ... well... doggie.
I can’t brush him myself anymore, there are too many tangles and I learned the hard way, years ago, when I put him in the tub and tried to do this little chore myself.
He looked so pathetic I had to take him to a groomer anyway, I won’t try that again !
Besides, anyone try to lift a 55 pound, wet , Standard Poodle out of a deep bathtub ?
It will take a mightier person than I to manage that ! Even if he did stay still, which he wouldn't . He would start squirming and I would just end up in the tub with the dog. I can see it now, the two of us, standing at the door at the Dog Groomers, maybe we will get a Two for One price.
So we go to see Hugo.
After a few mishaps in the Buenos Aires dog grooming world, we were told by a wonderful lady on the street one day, to take Pup to Hugo, the man is wonderful! And so he is!
Hugo is not as tall as I , but he has arms that look like he might be able to lift a car by himself. He shakes hands with my husband leaving one numb for a few minutes , I learned early on to let him kiss my cheek, my hand was crushed and numb for days after that first handshake.
But he is gentle and sweet with Pup and that is all that matters.
Pup is not so thrilled to see him, he gets a little bit of a split personality when he goes to the groomers.
He stiffens up, makes me drag him by the leash into the shop and then he is straining to pull me back out the door.
He never fails to draw a crowd at the door of the groomers, I am sure they take bets on who wins. Some days, it is pretty close.
But when Hugo comes up the stairs from his Grooming Parlor, Pup’s tail wags, he knows Treats are coming !
So he starts pulling me towards Hugo.
And yes, there goes Hugo’s hand, into the “cookie” jar, Pup sits, Hugo gives him his treat, kisses my cheek and shakes my husbands hand and drags the poor dog down into a Pup’s version of Hell.
Shhh, don't tell Pup but he has an appointment with Hugo on Thursday. Bless his heart.