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7-Letter Bad Word
7-Letter Bad Word
By S.D. Craig.......
or is it by her dog Nikki?
Published October 2002
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.
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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, Craigs 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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