The week before Memorial Day, Beagle Man brought me in for a bath and a trim.
It was super hot that week, and I heard him say to the groomer, “maybe a little shorter than usual, so he’s comfortable in the warmer weather.” As if I’m a toddler getting ready for summer. (Greg and Kelly used to give Ryan and Henry the buzz cut treatment, but they gave it up. Just not attractive.) Trouble
is, when Beagle Man said “a little shorter than usual,” what the groomer must have heard was “knock yourself out” — because, man, did she go to town! Now all my trademark reddish highlights are gone, and I look like your basic yellow Lab. Nothing against Labs, but I don’t see them getting stopped by people saying, “What a gorgeous dog! What breed is she?” (Yeah, they always assume I’m a “she,” because of my hair, I think.) My coat
hasn’t been this short since Beagle Man picked me
out from my litter mates back in Nova Scotia when I was four weeks old! I hate to sound vain, but I have gotten kind of used to getting compliments on my looks — mostly
about my long, flowing, lion-like mane. I still get compliments, but now it’s more like, “Oh, he’s so cute. I thought he was a puppy!” Not exactly the kind of thing a mature, almost-seven-year-old Duck Toller wants to hear. Oh, well. At least my hair will grow back. Which is more than I can say for Beagle Man’s.
Beagle Man always has a lot to say, so I’ll just pipe up in The Duck Dog Speaks whenever I can.
Leave a Reply