Sunday, October 24, 2010

Tales from a Terrific Terrier 2

From Franklin --

There she goes! Mommy did it again! She's telling stories about me that aren't exactly true. You can read her story below but if you want to know the real story, please read on.

Now first of all, Mommy takes me on a ride and tells me I'm going to the Groomer. I have no idea what a Groomer is but Mommy makes all of our adventures sound so fun. I just couldn't wait.

After our car ride we get out and OH MAN --I can smell things I have never ever smelled before. New scents everywhere and it wasn't me --it was my nose that was trying to sniff here, there, here, there, here, there. I totally wasn't pulling on my leash --I was merely following my nose. I looked up and saw THE BIGGEST doggie I have ever seen in my life! Mommy said something about a horse but gracious, I just wanted to go over to him and say hi. You know, introduce myself and ask him how he got so big. Do you think I'll be that big one day?

Mommy pulls on my leash and makes me go inside and these two very nice ladies want to play with me and I know they do because they kneeled down and said, "Hi Franklin!" Well hello, two nice ladies! My Mommy is so fun taking me to places for adventures and meeting new friends. I was so excited about my new friends, the two nice ladies, that I didn't even notice my Mommy left.

Before I know it, the two nice ladies put me on a table and get me wet! What is going on? Listen, I've told Mommy before I don't like baths. I just don't. See, I'm cute and I realize, its kind of what I got going on for me --cuteness can get me out of A LOT of trouble. I'm fluffy, which of course is all part of me being cute. When I'm wet I look like a rat. I can't have that! I need my cuteness! I need my fluff! I need my fur! What I thought was going to be a fun play-date ended up being a bath. Nice trick, Mommy. I'm not amused.


After the nice ladies --er, I mean --mean ladies got me all wet, they put me under a big blower. Hate it. Need I say more?

I do not chase the brush. Whatever. I hate that I am so misunderstood. I'm trying to help by moving the brush along with my mouth and suddenly I'm a bad puppy. Bite? Are you serious? I'm a cute fluffy Yorkie --I ain't got no bad bones in me body. Aye, lad, why am I talking like an Irish Setter? The point is, I wasn't biting --I was merely showing the ladies the spots they missed while they were brushing me.

And Mommy? I'm not even sure what to say about her. She abandoned me and left me with two very mean ladies. Like, I had no idea if Mommy was coming back. I had no idea if Mommy still loved me. This was our first separation and I was a little anxious about it. Mommy likes to blast about what a bad puppy she thinks me to be --hmp! I wonder what Puppy Social Services would think about her abandoning me for hours.

Lastly I would like to point out that I was trying to warn my fellow canines when they came into this horrible place of torture by water. Mommy was talking to the two ladies and when I saw more doggies come in I was trying to get closer to them so I could whisper, "Try to get away if you can. This place is a place of water torture and those two ladies are only nice while your Mommy is looking." It was the least I could do, save those poor doggies from the water torture I endured.

I did enjoy our ride back home because I was so glad to be back with Mommy. I love our adventures together but really, I'm a little tired of being so grossly misunderstood.

I love you Mommy but please don't take me back to that place of water torture.

Love,
Franklin
The Terrific Terrier

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Tales of a Terrible Terrier 2

After the Pet Smart fiasco, I knew our puppy needed some more home-training and lessons in manners before I took him into public again however; a trip to the Groomer was necessary and so taking my ill-behaved pup out was unavoidable. I did find a Groomer that runs a business on her farm and that seemed more suitable to Franklin than taking him to a commercial place. Unfortunately, the woman only operated M-F 8-5 and thus, Franklin Graham's first trip to the Groomer was at the expense of me taking 1/2 day off from work, unpaid. I have NEVER taken unpaid time off from work to take my own children to the doctor. What has become of me?

The groomer was only about 10 minutes from me and I enjoyed the short drive to the country. Franklin likes to ride on my lap because its the only way he can look out the window, he's too small to do it on his own. Makes driving a big more challenging not to mention, I feel pretty stupid like people are looking at me thinking, "Oh she's one of those kind of dog owners." You know, much the way I used to look at people before I became ---well, the type of dog owner that takes unpaid time off from work to get a puppy groomed. That kind of dog owner.

When we pulled into the long driveway that leads up to the farm, I instantly knew we were in the right place. Oh sure, I loved the setting and it was peaceful and quiet but that's not exactly what made it the right place. It was secluded and there was not one person to be found (I took the first appointment of the day) so there weren't any toddlers for Franklin to attack or other dogs, toys, noises, cars or any other distractions. Perhaps Franklin was actually going to have a good visit to the groomer.

Or perhaps not.

Franklin and I get out of the car and already he's a spaz. Granted, there were so many wonderful new smells and just a few feet away was a huge pasture with a grazing horse in it. I would have loved to let my little lad go run free and he thought so too, from the way he was pulling and tugging at his leash, "Mommy! PLEEEESE let me go!!!" I stood there for a second trying to envision it and concluded that somehow my tiny terrier would manage to terrorize that poor horse. Size never dissuades my pup.

There was a typical white farm house, a big barn in the back and between the two, a small building with a sign marked "Salon". I figured that was the place. Franklin and I walked in to a very tiny entry way that had a "Mr. Ed door" that led to the salon area. Franklin was out of his mind with excitement --much like the Pet Smart trip only this time there were fewer distractions. Immediately two ladies come to the door and excitedly say, "This must be Franklin!" They open the bottom half of the door and Pup takes off. He's jumping, he's nipping, he's barking, he's --well, basically he's behaving very badly. We exchange a few words of instruction and then off I go to leave my beloved Frankie at the groomer to get his first hair cut.

As I'm walking out the door I think to myself, "Good luck, ladies!"

No sooner than I took the last sip of my Pumpkin Spiced Latte, it was time to go pick up my freshly bathed boy. When I got back to the groomer other people were there dropping their dogs off. I was so excited to see Franklin's new Do and yes, I admit as I walked passed those other people and looked down at their dogs I so selfishly thought, "My dog is so much cuter than yours."

Which is exactly the attitude, I imagine, that causes my puppy to be so spoiled and rotten.

The nice ladies bring Franklin to me and he was so excited to see me. As I was taking care of the bill, I had to keep pulling the leash in closer to me to keep Frankie from jumping all over the two dogs in the waiting area. The very tiny waiting area. The very two well behaved dogs in the very tiny waiting area. The very two well behaved dogs in the very tiny waiting area that were not as cute as my very ill-behaved dog.

As I'm paying the nice ladies I ask the dumbest question that ever befell my lips. "So, how did he do? Was Franklin good?"

I really already knew the answer to that question but I was hopeful for a miracle of sorts . . . .

And then standing there in that tiny waiting area trying to hear the nice ladies talk over Franklin's yelps and barks and trying to keep him from jumping all over the other two dogs and feeling awfully embarrassed in front of the other two dog owners, all the while trying to dig $30 out of my purse, I had a moment reminiscent to many parent/teacher conferences I have had for a certain boy - a human boy of mine but you know --not to mention any names ---and you know that old trick the teachers play when they have bad news to deliver, "start with something positive and end with something positive". You know, give Mom a false sense of security then blast her with the bad news then try to make her feel good before she leaves. Been there. Done that! How many of those conferences started off with, "Jack is a nice boy. . . . . ." [Names have been changed to protect the innocent and/or guilty parties]. And then their voice tapers off and there is a pause . . . a seemingly eternal silence . . . you just wait for that "but".

Groomer lady says, "Franklin is so cute."

Silence. Well you know, except for all the commotion Frankin is causing behind me.

Wait for the but.

"But . . ."

Ding! There it is!!!!

"But . . . well, he's just so darn cute. Really he is. It's just well --well, he --he --he likes to chase the brush, you know? And well, he he nipped at us a few times. I mean, he's so cute and I know its his first time . . ."

"Nip? Like? Playful?"

Silence. Well you know, except for all the commotion Frankin is causing behind me.

"No, uh --not playful. No, he was --well you know, he was biting."

"BITING? Like for real angry biting?"

Yes, Franklin is a biter. Then again so was Zach as a toddler --er, I mean Jack.

Frankie and I get in the van and he cozies himself on my lap excited for the ride home. Just like those parent/teacher conferences of days gone by, there was a lecture to be had on the way home.

"Franklin! Why were you biting the nice ladies? You can't bite people, pup! That's not the way we behave! . . . ."

*sigh*

Will I ever be able to take this puppy into public?

And seriously, I took off a 1/2 day UNPAID from work for this. I'm a crazy lady raising a terrible terrier.