Shaving The Dog

My blog posts generally revolve around some of the things that my wife has said. Mostly those end up being the stupid things she says, because the smart things aren't nearly as funny. This time the stupid thing she said was, "Let's shave the dog." I followed this up with with the equally stupid statement of, "Ok."

Fur, for those of you who don't know, is used for keeping animals warm. That's not typically a problem in Texas, so it was a very simple thing for me to just say ok. After all, if my wife thinks that the dog is an overgrown poof of hair, he probably is. I tend to trust her in the aesthetics department. Yet it seems that I had forgotten a very important fact. Winter is coming. 

Anyway, my simple stupid statement of "Ok" turned into two days of me holding down the dog while she went at it with clippers and scissors until my dog was essentially naked. If you've never seen a naked poodle, it isn't exactly....cuddly. I was crushed. Sure the dog hadn't been exactly good looking, but now.....

Anyway, it turned out to be alright for awhile. His new looks grew on me. A bit. And since his dirty fur was out of the way he became significantly softer, and better smelling. Things were looking good. And then the temperatures plummeted. Like to the 60's. It was terrible! My dog was in a constant state of shivering, and I took to making sure he had a blanket available to curl up under whenever possible. It was a sad state of affairs. 

I had told myself from the time I was young that I would never dress my dog up in any sort of clothing. Not for any purpose. And over the years I had scoffed at so many people who would put these minuscule sweaters on their pets, as if they actually did something other than make their dog look ridiculous. At this point in my life I owe each and every one of them an abject apology.

My dog just looked so sad, and, and......shivery. So when we saw that dog sweater hanging there in the store I paused. My wife looked at me and asked, "Do you want that for Asher?"

Hanging my head, I reflected on the sad path that had brought me face to face with this decision. Dejectedly I weighed my options. Either I could let my dog suffer the cold winds that the Texan winter had brought upon us, or I could let him forever be branded one of those sad animals that wear clothing.

My wife was still  looking at me. "Well?"