August 29, 2013

A post about my dog's hair

One of the most beautiful things about owning a Pomeranian is being able to gaze and fawn over their beautiful coat. 






Seriously. Look at that plumage. A Pomeranian's coat is like a work of art. He knows it, we know it.

The downside to bearing the responsibility of maintaining such a fabulous little beast? The fluff balls. That's not the technical term, but it's what Engineer Husband and I have so lovingly named them - almost like if we call them something cute we won't run out of the house screaming? Because as much as you brush, and bathe, and brush some more - it's everywhere. 

You can vacuum. You can dust. And it's all great and good for a day or so. Until the Fluff Master decides to roll around on the black rug in your room. Or lay on the back of the couch and so leave little pieces of himself on the sofa table. Which of course you won't really notice until an unexpected guest arrives and BAM - FLUFF.

But you learn. You schedule routine groomings. You're on track with the groomings and your vacuuming schedule so it works. And you start out small. Because Pomeranians are strange creatures - atleast ours is incredibly vain. So you leave the poofy head and the poofy tail.Y'know..so they still feel like themselves.




It's hard to tell from this picture, but it's one of my favorite ones. See the mane is still intact, body shaved down (where most of the shedding occurs), and then the wild bushy tail.

I loved this picture so much I commissioned an artwork as a wedding present for EH.


And then you get busy. Or lazy. Or something. And the hair grows. And grows and grows and accumulates around your house until you realize that that second dog you've been begging for? Yea, you could make an entirely duplicate Moose out of the shed fluff balls that are piling up by your nightstand and on the aforementioned sofa table.

So what do you do? You scramble to make an appointment. Right after you get off work. It's hot. And humid. (It is August in Arkansas after all!) You rush home, scramble to find the collar and the leash. You're on your way. FREEDOM. FREEDOM FROM FLUFF.

And then this happens. You're excited. Like a woman who goes to the salon every other year and decides after waiting to grow her hair out all long that she now wants to chop it all off. For change! For a new start! That's what I decided for Moose.

Which is how this happened.



That's a full body mohawk, folks. There was a slight miscommunication at the groomers. Where I had envisioned a still fluffy face with a fun little mohawk down his back leading into a still poofy tail....yea, they more or less took some inspiration from The Lion King and decided our wonderful, regal, worthy of art Pomeranian needed to be a little more hard core.

At the very least, our little guy is much more cuddly. Our house is just a little less fluffy. And I can't help but think that's a victory. 

As for being so edgy, I'm glad to know that our Squish's new image hasn't changed him too much.






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