I AM A BAD PET PARENT!!!!

Okay, so I thought I was doing okay.

Since we adopted Daisy I've been bathing her once a week, I've been brushing and blow drying her after I bathe her...

I thought we were doing fine.

Until yesterday.

I decided that I would take her to the professional groomer for a special treat (hee hee...little did I know...)

It being my first official day of Spring Break, I was not, shall we say, up and/or dressed by her 11:00a.m. appointment time. So, I sent Dan and Daisy on their way with specific instructions for Dan to have them trim her all around, clip her nails, clean her ears, shave down her potty path (eww.), etc.

I will admit that I was particularly excited by the prospect of the groomer being able to get a bow into her fur (hair...whatever, Lisa) since whenever I try to put one in she suddenly turns herself into a doggie contortionist with opposable thumbs and yanks it out. *tear*

So, you can imagine my absolute shock when Dan called and said that "Chip" the groomer said that she had matts and he was going to have to shave her down.

My jaw hit the floor.

"Honey?" Dan asked hestitantly.

"How can she have matts? I bathe and brush her every week!" I demanded of my innocent don't-kill-the-messanger husband.

"I don't know, but he showed them to me, and they're pretty bad." He answered.

"But dogs who don't have owners who love them get mats!" I insisted. Not dogs who's human mothers chase them around all day trying to put bows in their hair! I added internally.

I was floored. How could this happen? Since September when she had to be shaved nearly bald because she'd been a stray I'd been working on growing her fur (hair...WHATEVER, Lisa!) out so that she didn't look like a cancer victim. Now here we were right back in the same position. How could this be?!

Two hours later when "Chip" called to say she was "ready" (a.k.a. satisfactorily butchered) and we could pick her up, I'm pretty sure I heard an underlying tone in his voice. The kind that says "I guess you can come get your dog back so you can abuse and neglect her some more. See you in another three months, you neglectful dog owner you. Don't forget to feed her once in a while."

When Dan brought her home (I couldn't bring myself to face "Chip's" condesending stare.), she actually doesn't look THAT bad. Just different than how I pictured.

I only cringed a little bit when Dan told me that "Chip" had given us the Adoption Package for people who rescue strays and bring them in to get groomed.

"Did he think that we just barely rescued her?" I asked. Maybe we could play it off that that's why she was in such bad shape.

"No, I told him the truth." Dan stated matter of factly. Why did he have to choose now to be honest? When my pride is on the line!?

Now when I look into her eyes (which I can see now, thanks to "Chip's" clipper skills, not his fur (hair...whatever, LISA) dressing and bow-putting-in skills) I think that I see her silently asking me "Why, mom? Why?!"

But maybe I'm overreacting...just a little bit. Maybe...

P.S. They did in fact give her a rather fetching striped bandana, which she is enjoying chewing up immensely.