Well Trained

In spite of the fact that my child takes Indy outside IMMEDIATELY before we take him to the groomer, Indy inevitably both pees AND poops on the floor in the groomer's entry.

EVERY.SINGLE.TIME.

Of course EVERY.SINGLE.TIME. I am apologizing all over myself while simultaneously turning 3 shades of red.

And asking for a plastic bag and paper towels, because, of course, I forgot to bring my own...despite my foreknowledge of the chaos about to ensue.

And the groomer just smiles and hands me a bag and paper towels.

It's like they have it marked in his file that they need to have a bag ready when we walk in the door.

In fact, they probably DO have that in the file.

I would if I were them.

So embarrassing.

One can understand why I only muster up the courage to take him about every 3 months...when he's so shaggy and stinky that I simply cannot take it any longer.

Photo credit to PA for finding this sign at Old Time Pottery and insisting I take a picture of it; who knew it would come in handy so soon?
Well, I'm sure PA did!

I am so thankful to Groomer Gregg and his staff that, not only do they clean up our mutt and make him so beautiful (I would normally say "handsome" because he is a boy...ok a eunuch if we're being technical...but because Indy is so often mistaken for a female with his girly tail and swishing hips when he walks, we'll stick with beautiful) they have not banned us from the establishment.

Yet.

Indy...all tuckered out from a hard day at the groomer's. Please note the non-masculine bandana they put on him.
Even the groomer, who SHAVED the dog's potty area, is apparently thrown off by the dog's femininity...