Bad Hair Days

But WHY???When 'the boys' get groomed, they usually look all "shee-shee froo-froo". They look like dainty little 'pansy' dogs, but Cappy is right when he says, "Well, they may look like that, but they aren't...what they are is snot-nosed little boys". Rough and rowdy, but funny and good company.

I hate to say it, but the hair cuts they got the other day disappointed all of us; me, and the boys. I don't know what happened. Ya cain't win 'em all. I tried taking their pictures, but they were rolling all over the beds and the couch, just not happy. Instead of Bichons, they look like Poodle Fools. They don't even look like poodles, just an odd mix of some kind of strange breed of dog. When I stopped to get gas on the way home, after I picked them up from getting groomed, the kid who checked the oil, asked me a couple of times," What kind of dogs are they??" When I told him again, he kinda made a weird face and walked away wiping the oil blade. As I was paying him, he asked, "And where did you get them?" Alright, enough already...they look bad.

I talked with Cappy's Aunt Gussie and said we are coming for a visit. Cappy had talked with her first and tipped her off about the bad haircuts. She asked, "You are bringing the ugly dogs, right?" Yeah, I'm bringin' the ugly dawgs. I think I'll put paper bags over their heads, with doggie eye-holes.

It kind of makes me think about this lady years ago when I had taken my kids to the park. We were all sitting together, when a lady went strolling by with her big bull dog. I could tell she was quite proud of her dog, by the way she walked along, holding the leash. Perhaps he was a prize specimen, who had won blue ribbons in a dog show. I was about to say something nice to her, when Thom, who was about seven years old, pointed to her dog and screeched loudly enough for everyone in the park, the and surrounding area to hear, "HEY!!! LOOK AT THE PIG!!!" Then doubled over in laughter, to which the poor woman visibly withered, and quickly slunk away, now apparently ashamed of her pure bred dog. It happened too quickly for me to be able to do anything, as I had other little children with me, who I didn't dare leave unattended for a minute. I've always felt so badly for that lady, even after all these years.

I have to laugh about how things even out sometimes. Now we own a 'pig'. MarkyBear is supposed to weigh about 15 lbs., but the last time he weighed in at the vet, he was 42 lbs. People often just stare at him and say how cute his face is and that he's so sweet, but "Boy! Is he big! ...and round...like a pig". And now this 'miscreant', as Cappy calls him, has a bad haircut, to boot. I'm about to take them out shopping at PetSmart or some other store, where they can go in with me and peruse what they'd like to take to Aunt Gussie's house, when we go. I can already imagine the looks we are going to be getting from the people 'in the know'.