Wednesday, Sept. 16th

My day was very busy.  First of all, Bea got taken away to someplace called the groomers. To hear Bea tell it, the groomers is a loud, scary place filled with dogs, hair and buzzing machines.  After a long soap treatment Bea is made to stand, have warm air blown on her for hours and then have all her hair removed. 
I am so lucky to be naturally cute, and not need the hours of work that Bea does to maintain her beauty.
With Bea gone, I had to watch over the clinic all by myself. It isn't easy to warn every dog when they come in that if they don't behave, they'll have me to answer to.  Especially without Bea as my back up.  But perservere I did.
My dad spent his day putting thread into a holey Bichon, made that way by a pushy neighborhood Rottweiler.  Mother was in and out:  in long enough to give me my own soap treatment, then out long enough to have a really bad day.  So, I juggled -- growling to keep the visiting pets behaving, consoling Bea when she thought her grooming made her head look too small, and looking just cute enough to melt mother's heart when she looked like she'd rather be anywhere else.
Some dogs look at me and think that I have such an easy life -- believe me when I tell you that I just make it look that way.