7-Letter Bad Word

By S.D. Craig……. or is it by her dog Nikki?

So, what are you looking at? Yeah, I know I look funny. Just got back in from the groomer. It’s the 7-letter bad word for dogs. Just ask George Carlin about bad words. He taught me a few others when I was younger. Back when I was just a pup. I got a hold of some others from listening to his old albums when SHE and HE leave the house.

I’d like to know what the big deal is about smelling good, having your hair trimmed just so, clipping your nails. Then let’s talk about the silly little bandana about my neck or, when they forget I’m male, the bow perched on my perky little head. That stuff is downright humiliating, not to mention it falls into my water dish. Drags around after that getting dirty under my neck. Good grief. And dog perfume? Come on. Be serious. I smell just fine the way I am. Why do you think I roll in everything I see?

SHE doesn’t have a clue how awful the day spent at the groomer is. Shh. Don’t even say the word out loud. THEY might send me back for another visit. Have you ever seen what they do to a dog? They hitch up your groin with a strap like you’re a fish in a net, just barely letting those back feet touch the ground. This is so’s you can’t escape while they trim you in various places. I stand perfectly still, or hang perfectly still. I don’t want that lady missing with those blades. You know what’s down there, don’t you? Uh huh.

When we arrive, I often scramble with my paws on the slippery floor and try to escape out the front door. I pretend I must pee. I hit the familiar patch of grass like it’s a savior of dog’s souls. My brain rushes to figure out what to do to get away from HER. From that 7-letter bad word. Groomer. Don’t make me go, please, please, I won’t spill my food on the carpet when you vacuum, or chew the treats in front of the TV. I won’t sniff the inside of the car’s windows either. Honest.

It’s not worth the bone I get when I’m done being tortured. That woman tosses me one when I depart. Well, that’s not fair. She doesn’t toss it. Yet I deserve the whole box of bones for what she’s put me through. You see, my coat is so nice I have to be hand-scissored. This takes forever and lots of patience on my part. Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s hard work for the groomer too, but frankly, I don’t give a damn. I want out.

I don’t like cussing but things like this get a dog’s dander up. I’d put up with a vet trip and a shot before I would waltz into the groomer’s shop on purpose.

Bad word. Bad word. I just know I’m going to have nightmares tonight. Twitch and twist and turn and moan. I’ve heard HIM do it.

Somehow, dogs must get together and fill out a petition to stop this kind of treatment. We deserve featherbeds and cuddly sweaters and petting. It shouldn’t matter that we don’t bathe. That our hair grows long and raggedy. That…

Oh all right, make the appointment. Next month. I’ve got thirty days to dread it and cuss.

About the writer:

SD Craig is a freelance writer and editor of LovingYourCurves.com and was given the nickname “Chatterbox” by fellow writers. At age fifty, Craig’s Southern flair and sense of humor give her plenty to write about with a rapier wit and a wacky outlook. Her articles on body image (her biggest passion), marriage/divorce and relationships, family, friends, career issues, computers, the Internet, horses, baseball, movie reviews and writing tips remind one of Erma Bombeck or Dave Barry. A freelance writer who once juggled five columns then got real, Craig welcomes your e-mails and feedback on her articles. Drop her a hello at sdcraig922@yahoo.com or stop by www.lovingyourcurves.com.

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