I knew that today was not going to be one of Henrietta's favorites — it was bath and grooming day — one she dreads. It was a little better for me because I didn't have to be the mean mom who dropped her off. I was at work so had to cajole my son, Nicholas, into driving her there and then calling me so I could tell the groomer what to do with my little cuddly fluffball.
She is typically a well-behaved girl at the groomers — at least that is what they tell me. I don't hear her barking or crying once I get there but when she sees me she acts like a prisoner who has been locked away in solitary for months.
I am very disciplined when it comes to strapping her into her seatbelt in the car but after grooming I can't bring myself to and, honestly, I can barely get her out from the inside of my jacket where she has burrowed herself. So, today, was no different — I picked her up, she crawled inside my jacket sleeve and spent the short ride home offering up pathetic little whines and making me feel like the worst mom in the world. I am very easily swayed by guilt when it comes to Henrietta and satisfying her ever-increasing needs and demands. But, hey, she gives me all of the love I could ever want, snuggles with me in bed and greets me so enthusiastically when I come home, I can't help but give into her every demand.
Here is Henrietta — after — all beautified and poodled up with her fancy bow!