I used to think parenting was a difficult job. And then we got
our dog, No-no Lulu. That dog makes Junior look like a saint
– and he’s a teenager.
I used to think parenting was a difficult job. And then we got our dog, No-no Lulu. That dog makes Junior look like a saint – and he’s a teenager.
For No-no Lulu, even a trip to the groomers is pure hell on Earth. Now, our other dog, Kirby, loves spa day. This is because Kirby believes herself to be a reincarnated princess who should be worshipped by everyone she meets.
Seriously? Kirby waits in the morning for her squirt of doggy cologne. She loves to dress in little outfits and frankly, if she weren’t shaped like a very rotund sausage on legs and thus too heavy for a mere mortal to carry, she’d greatly enjoy being lugged around in a purse so she could come in contact with her adoring public.
Sadly, in No-no Lulu’s tiny mind, spa day is the most horrifying day ever, mainly because it involves taking a bath. After all, she spends her mornings rolling around in her own poop. To her, a bath just removes the smell she loves so much.
So the first few times we went to spa day No-no Lulu would get out of the car and immediately sit on her butt in the parking lot, refusing to move. Kirby, however, would strain her leash to the point of literally running all four legs in the air as she tried to get into the groomer.
And me? Oh, I was in the middle, having my arms stretched out until my knuckles dragged on the ground. Not a fun place to be, in case you were wondering.
Anyway, after a few times of this, I found a solution. I put both of them in a shopping cart and walked them in the door. And this worked until the other day when I did something so stupid I even astounded myself. You see, I’ve been working with No-no Lulu. We walk every day and she’s been so good at meeting new people and behaving herself. Sometimes, she even goes a day or two without rolling in her own poop.
So that day, I took them to the groomer. And it wasn’t until I got out of the car that I realized I forgot their special collars that I use when walking them. But, because I am quite possibly the most stupid dog parent to walk the planet, I figure I would be fine. After all, they walk every day and they obey my every command.
Seriously? I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it, but I am really stupid.
Anyway, we got out, and instantly both dogs realized where they were. Kirby starts joyously barking and running circles around me in one direction, while No-No Lulu starts barking and runs circles in the opposite direction. And me? Well, I have the silly leashes that keep extending and both of them are unlocked. So basically, when the dogs are at the end of their leashes, my legs have been tied tight with 30 feet of rope.
In the middle of a parking lot.
I realized pretty quickly that I needed to get the dang dogs inside before my toes popped off from lack of circulation. So I tried hopping. Yeah. That’s really not something I should ever do again. For one thing, I had on wedge sandals and frankly, I don’t land well on them. For another thing, well, let’s just say it’s difficult to get a butt as big as mine airborne.
Then I tried walking in teeny, tiny steps. At the rate I was going, it would take 4.3 days to reach the doors of the groomer. So I tried unwinding myself. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to unwind two dogs from 30 feet of leash, but let’s just say it isn’t easy. But I finally got them unwound and short-locked the leashes.
And No-no Lulu sat on the dang street and refused to move.
But somehow I did find the strength to move her – or possibly it was Kirby barking at her and trying to make her go into the groomer (I’m not kidding, the princess really wanted her pampering that day). But No-no Lulu went in and suffered through the indignity of being clean and smelling of something other than her own feces.
As for me, when I came back to pick them up, I remembered their special collars. No way am I making that mistake again.
