This morning she launched a dawn attack and chopped off all of my carefully arranged carpet, then hauled me into that torture chamber she laughingly refers to as the bathroom.
There have been threats of taking out the dreaded clipper to tidy up the loose ends, but I think her right hand is paralysed with cramp from the scissoring, so a truce has been agreed for the moment.
The question asked was: Which quirky habit annoys you the most, and what quirky habit do you love — in yourself, or others?
I could say the same quirky habit of Izzy The Diva’s that annoys me the most is also one that I love.
Izzy the Diva is a pedigree Old English Sheepdog, and I’m sure that if you live in Ireland or the UK, the first image that springs to mind is that elegant supermodel who graces the Dulux advertisements – all long flowing hair and fluffy paws, looking like a perfect ornament. Key to this image is how clean the dog is.
The lovely Izzy is a true beauty but she is allergic to any form of grooming or bathing. She is, however, very fond of wearing as much of the garden, the park and the all local badger and fox poo that she can apply to herself. An enthusiastic helper, Izzy likes to examine all the flowerpots to ensure they are not overly filled with compost, and will remove any excess that she finds. Another housework task she has mastered is shredding the contents of any bin she can find so mum does not have to compact her rubbish. She also likes storing spare food in her beard.
After all this activity, her habit is to have a nice long drink of water, and then come over for a kiss and a cuddle. The sensation of a cold, wet, dribbly, compost (or worse) laden chin on your lap is not recommended, but you know what? Izzy still gets her cuddle, how could I refuse that face?
Also found on Occasional Stuff for the Daily Prompt Challenge
I avoided the winter haircut this year (whee!). I was booked for December, but the roof of Baskerville Manor broke or something, Anyway, the long (and not short) of it is that she hasn’t got the strength in her arm any more to cut me herself and there is no budget for a groomer until at least January.
Now that the hair on my head is so long, tonight she decided to experiment with top knots and placed this rather fetching scrunchy on my head. I love it!
My main role in Baskerville Manor is to bring beauty, cuteness and gorgeousness to Yours Truly Confused’s existence, and I work very hard at this.
One of my self-appointed tasks in connection with this role is to wake Mum up every morning so the first thing she sees is my lovely face.
She says my freezy-cold nose and dribbly beard are extremely effective.
Unlike Princess Chloe the First and The Big Guy, I don’t just have to suffer the jingly antlers and the dicky bow, I also have to endure The Christmas Bath and Brush Up.
If I sit here and look as pretty as possible for the picture, I had better get a huge reward from Santa.
Of course, I always look as pretty as possible, so no effort involved.
After the May round of Grooming Wars, Yours Truly Confused called in re-inforcements.
Naomi has just started Naomi’s Scruffy Paws and needed some practice before her final grooming exams. She plans to provide grooming services to rescue dogs to help them get new homes. Yours Truly Confused volunteered me as a test subject. I’m not sure if this is ethical.
It certainly isn’t ethical to have a two against one round of Grooming Wars, so I will not concede defeat this time.
Naomi had not worked on girls as big as me before and I think she was quite impressed at the amount of hair she had to shear off. Her wireless clippers discharged when she was only half-way through (har har).
I have to say, Naomi did a rather nice job, I think I look extra gorgeous now.
Because I am so hairy, after my bath, Yours Truly Confused likes me to wear a dressing gown so I don’t shake and drip all over the house.
This is the bit I really like, all warm and snug on my bed, being told I am good and beautiful.
When all is said and done, there is really nothing like a nice snooze and a cuddle with Yours Truly Confused
mmmmmmm….. snore……
OK, I finally conceded that a complete short back and sides is preferable to the half-shag I have been sporting for the last two days.
Now that my coat is all trimmed, I feel it necessary to snuggle up under Yours Truly Confused’s duvet to keep warm. If she dares to make me move from this cosy spot there is going to be trouble
I just escaped downstairs. I think I have Yours Truly Confused beaten into submission for tonight.
I actually quite like my hair the way it is right now, I feel like I am channelling my inner lion. But YTC insists that as I am a girl, I have to be like a lioness, e.g. no mane.
Well, she can hang onto that thought until tomorrow or risk paralysis from continuing to struggle with that scissors.
Score: The Diva – One : Yours Truly Confused – Nil
Here I am, rapidly departing from the grooming arena, having allowed Yours Truly Confused to clip part of my rear end.
I think she’s happy I withdrew from the field of combat this morning, she keeps muttering something about blisters from using the scissors.
Yours Truly Confused foolishly thinks she is going to be able to trim my somewhat rampant coat this week. Using a scissors because she is afraid to use the clipper on me.
She’s been nervously clipping away with a scissors for the past hour or so. Now I’m bored so if she wants to cut any more hair, she’s going to have to catch me first.
Yeay!!!!!!!
Having accumulated as much grass, muck, fox doodoo, water, leaves and random unidentifiable icky things in my coat as I could possible manage, the only thing left to do is have a good roll on the communal Baskerville Manor bed.
Ahh, that’s a bit better. I’ve had a long drink to get my beard and moustache as wet and drippy as possible, and then managed a spot of snuffling in the flowerpot before Yours Truly Confused caught me.
I’ve also dipped my ears in something lovely and yucky and got my legs and chest good and soggy so the hair there is curling nicely and merging into a nice solid mass.
The neighbourhood fox has been visiting overnight, he’s left some delightful doings under the trees, Now, if I can just get in a good roll before YTC spots me ……….
Ok, I’ve made it out to the back garden and I’m pretty sure Yours Truly Confused can’t see me behind this bush.
I wonder whether I should sneak back in and arrest that nasty brush thing? Or shall I engage in a spot of bottom rubbing… there are some lovely leaves and twigs back here that would accentuate my rump beautifully.
Tell us about a time when everything actually turned out exactly as you’d hoped.
Izzy’s first visit to the groomer. When Izzy landed in my life, she looked more like a Yeti than a dog. Her coat was so matted, it felt like carpet. The first picture shows her after a marathon two-day brushing session where I managed to release her tail from its furry trap. Can you imagine, the hair on her rear end was so long and tangled, she was unable to wag her tail. What you can’t see in that picture is the matted hair that was squeezing the circulation out of the tips of her ears, or the nasty rash she had because her hair was so filthy. On top of everything else, she stank to high heaven.
In the second picture you can see her after she got her #1 summer short back and sides, a different dog. She turned out even better than I had hoped. That’s the first time I got a good look at her beautiful eyes.
