Monday, November 3, 2008

Beardless and Brown

*Indicates that you should see definitions below. I don't have time to put all kinds of random explanations in this thing. Deal with it.

I don't know if many of you follow dog grooming so I'll explain myself a little bit with a nice anecdote I came up with while I was using the vines (see previous post "The Day I Ate a Condom"). It's an oldie but a goodie. My mom told it to me. Okay, get excited people! I'm gonna blog.

One day, a long time ago, some of the humans were being socialized* together. After realizing that knitting is bored and chess caused physical violence (I told it was a long time ago), these humans decided to name groups of animals. Of course they started with the best group: canines. Thus came forth the variety of dog breeds.

Now, there is some other version of this like, all the dogs were building a tower trying to reach Heaven so God said we would all be different breeds, but I like this one better. The humans try to pass it off as some explanation of why they have different languages. I don't have the time to argue for historical accuracy so whatever. We're going with the first one.

Sometimes I think it is a great system. If Alex tells me that one of her companions has a pittbull, then I know what to expect (I'm going to be the smartest and best looking one there is the obvious conclusion. Other times, I hate that I'm supposed to be stereotyped as a certain kind of dog. As if the humans who declared "breeds" could actually put me in a class with other dogs! I know -I'm as full of contempt, disdain and Greenies as you are. Well, if you have good taste that is.

The type of dog I am is a miniature schnauzer. I believe I've already discussed this some. However, I have not mentioned that I have one characteristic that differentiates me from other four legged creatures (just for the purposes of this blog, pretend you don't know that I reek of awesome). Wait for it....

I DON'T SHED!

Oh yeah, baby. So all of you posers who say you are allergic to all dogs, you're not allergic to me. So please, feel free to thank your lucky stars. However, this does mean that my hair just keeps growing. Some people, not mentioning any names (roomie), suck at making sure that I am groomed* in a timely fashion (I live with her) and the long hair makes it where I can't see (Alex, if you can't see my eyes, then I can't see you. Jesus.).

Okay, I think you have been prepped enough. Let us commence with The Haircut Incident.

Whenever we were in college, Alex would have to go take a lot of tests around the end of every semester. She would be gone for a long time because she had to study (so she said) and then she would go out after she took her last tests because she had to relieve stress. I didn't mind the second part of the equation so much. Whenever she drinks then she can't feel how hard I accidentally (mwahahaha <-- evil laugh) bite her when we are playing.

For some reason (probably cause she's kind of dumb), Alex thought that a haircut appointment at 7:30 a.m. the day after her last final (the following drinking binge) would work out great. I don't know why I'm the only one who ever can see these things happen. Seriously. I lick my butt and I'm the smartest in this household? Come on.

Anyways, I was up and was ready to take care of business (one good thing about shitting in public; I never went anywhere again with out pooping beforehand). Alex did not wake up so easily unfortunately. Whenever she finally did get in motion, it seemed like she was having trouble walking. I was also glad that it was getting to where I couldn't see because, well, let's just say my roomie was not at her best looking that fine day. Nor at good looking, okay looking or anything that sounds like she was pretty. At all. In fact, she kinda looked like this.

NOTE: PHOTO HAS BEEN DISCOVERED BY ALEX AND THUS, REMOVED. SORRY.
But worse. And no smile (which might have made it better actually).

Tangent: Being the health nut I am, I like to run around alot in the great outdoors. By doing so, the stupid froo-froo haircut that is specific to schnauzers gets spotted with seeds, leaves, etc. They don't bother me so much, but my roomie hates vaccuuming (and that thing scares the living crap out of me so I hide whenever its time to clean the carpets) so she always tries to pick them out. It takes forever because of my sexy, silky smooth fur (better than mink, baby). This is crucial information.

Okay, so Alex can't walk, I can't see, but somehow we make it to the groomers. When we walk in, they get excited to see because, damn, I'm me and Alex hands off my leash to the clerk. As I'm shaking my shit out of the room, I overhear the guy at the front (also bearded so I think we connected a spiritual level) ask if I want my haircut in typical schnauzer fashion. I hear my roomie say no and start giving instructions. I wasn't too worried though. I mean, you can't really mess this up, if you know what I'm saying. ;)

So I wait awhile and they give me treats and I don't get too suspicious whenever the groomer spent extra time on me because I love hanging out with me. Eventually it is 4:30 and time for pickup. Alex arrives.

I hear her and get happy because I know Brandon is with her and he LOVES me. I mean, they stayed together way longer than they would have if I hadn't been around. He would have tossed her aside in no time, but my charm kept him coming back. Alex disagrees, but whatever. I say just let me have it. I mean, listen to what she had done to me.

Anyways, the clerk gets me and puts my leash on and I run out, expecting to hear compliments all around about how good I look and how much I was missed. Instead, I hear Alex, my own roommate, say, "That's not my dog."

The clerk checks again and I'm getting pissed. This is what I wagged my nub for? You have got to be kidding me. No one had let me look at my reflection so I had no idea what anyone was talking about. I was trying to figure out why Alex had put her hand over her mouth in shock. I mean, yeah I felt a little bit more breezy, but it was probably just a little shorter than normal. Plus, my hair had been so long I hadn't been able to see before so that's probably why she didn't recognized me. Little did I know that staring back at her was this:

Yes, you really just saw that. Did I mention that it was December?! Yeah. She had told the guy to "cut it all off". What she didn't realize was that it was not clear that she only meant the skirt. So now I was bald with a chilly ass all because somebody still wasn't sober the next morning. Alex's dad told me I looked homeless. Others said they'd never seen a white miniature Pinscher! It was horrible. Alex laughed the whole way home and then made me wear a damn bow on Christmas Eve!


You are probably wondering what the brown spot is on my forehead. In case I hadn't already had enough drama in my recent life, Alex decided to spice things up a little more. And she is totally to blame. I mean, I was just hanging out. It wasn't like I shaved HER head or anything.

About two weeks (and one guy) later, the second incident occurred. Alex wanted to dye her hair. While she was doing this, I kept a close watch for a chance at payback (and I needed her body heat -I was freezing all the time now). Alex was putting the dye in her hair in the bathroom and I thought it would be a good-no, scratch that-a great idea to stand in between her legs. She kept getting annoyed with me and her lack of movement which she deemed my fault (I know, right? I'm the only one who takes responsibility for their actions. I mean, I didn't tell the cashier that she had pooped in PetCo).

Anyways, I was just hanging out, like I said, and trying to stay warm when she put some of the dye on my head! Guess she thought if I had spots people wouldn't think I was a Pinscher. So I was now bald and had a brown stain on my head AND had to take a bath! I have never entered a bathroom without being forced to again.

This did not dispell the comments on the wrong dog breed. Nope, people just kept telling me I had dirt on my head. Some tried to get it off. Her new boyfriend told everyone about how we matched. One person called PETA. I started to go with the agent, but how would I have gotten my revenge? Justice is what I wanted. And justice is what I got. Ask Alex about the time the bird attacked her. She'll tell you what's up.
I even had to start seeing a therapist because of my tantrums. They would happen whenever I say any dog with more hair than me (so basically when I saw any dog), I wanted to fight them. If Alex hadn't broken it up, I totally could have taken this wolf. It's about the size of the fight in the dog, you know?

Anyways, turns out I had daddy issues or something. Wish I could go into my therapy sessions but it's time for Beneful. Until next time...

Appendix
Being socialized: whenever you are forced to hang out with inferior creatures of your species. Ex. Alex thinks she needs to make sure I'm being socialized by saying, "Be a sweet puppy" whenever some idiot continues to sniff my ass long after you could call it a greeting and she doesn't want me to growl.
Groomed/grooming: when your human drops you off for a trim and you have listen to all these other mutts whine and moan about getting their haircut and then you get happy when the groomer says, "We've got a bleeder!" because you know that some idiot didn't stand still. Pussies.

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