Where Did My Puppy Go!?!

Last Thursday due to a trip to Las Vegas, I booked Louie into our vet’s boarding facility for two nights. Dilin (son #2) graciously agreed to pick him up on Saturday before the vet's office closed at noon. Our flight back was scheduled to arrive late on Saturday night. We were due home around midnight. If Louie stayed beyond Saturday at noon, we would not be able to collect him until Monday evening after work. I just couldn't leave him for that long.

The vet offers a grooming service as well as boarding. Louie was overdue for a trim. So, I asked the receptionist if the groomer had any openings during his stay. The groomer was fully booked, but if there were a cancellation Louie would be slotted in, the receptionist assured me. Before we left, the groomer came to the reception area to meet us and enquire as to how we wanted Louie groomed. I very confidently told her I wanted the puppy cut. The groomer then flabbergasted me by asking, “What do you mean by a puppy cut." That threw me for a loop. I thought I had the terminology down pat. This was Louie's fourth grooming session and "puppy cut" had up to this point been the description that had produced the desired results. I stood there looking at her, spluttering and splattering. This seemingly simple question plummeted me back to my first years in the US. Struggling to relate the minutest detail of everything, I attempted to engage in.

For example, my first visits to the hairdresser involved questions like what exactly I would like done, how much I would like cut off? This much or that much? Do I want it turned under or turned out? What side do I part my hair, or do I part it at all? Do I want them to use a curling iron or some other contraption? Do I want conditioner? That one I always thought was just plain stupid! Of course, I wanted conditioner! Do I want gel, do I want hairspray? Going to the hairdresser had become a question and answer session, like one of those pub quizzes. Except I didn’t know the answers! Hey, mother of four here! Give me a break! I found a photo I carry with me at all times. I am ready for them now! Hair never looks like the photo, but that's a story for another day.

Back to the groomer. Finding my voice I reiterated a nice little "puppy cut." "I like him fluffy." Vet-groomer went on to expound on the pluses of a good trim! Better value for money, no hair matting etc. etc. I repeated, "I really like him fluffy!" Husband then chimed in, that yes in fact Louie had a tendency to get matted around the legs. I gave him the best-betrayed look I could muster. The groomer proceeded to describe the proper poodle cut. My forceful voice decided to join the fray with an unequivocal, “Absolutely Not!” I explained that I just wanted his cute little face trimmed a bit, and a fraction taken of the length on his body. The groomer and I eventually came to an uneasy compromise. No more than three quarters of an inch was to be cut.

Dilin collected Louie as he promised before noon and sent me this message!


"Looks like little louie got a buzz cut!!"

My first reaction,Dilin collected the wrong puppy! My poor little Louie was stuck in the vet's boarding facility until Monday! Dilin reassured me, this was indeed my little Louie. I will not be bringing Louie back to the vet’s groomer. I will be going where the groomers know what a "puppy cut is!" That is if Louie has hair to groom ever again! In the meantime, I am trying to adjust to “New Hairless Louie”