Gone to the dog(s)

Three of us spent 3+ hours clipping our black Newfoundland dog last Saturday.  Her coat is an incredibly thick cotton-y long one that mats at the drop of a hat.  The summer shedding of her undercoat is an especially big mess.  First we tranquilize her, so she will lay on the grooming table without trying to get down.  Then it is three pairs of clippers, including the mammoth Oster Clipmaster that sounds like a jet engine when I start it up.  But boy does it ever shear that coat off, as long as it is used on big flat areas, like her back and sides. Trimming around legs and butt and the underside of her chest and belly call for a smaller and more maneuverable set of clippers. At the end, we had a pile of stinky hair big enough to make another entire dog, and that's not counting all the hair sweat-glued to our bodies.  Once a year, thank god.

But the result is a very short coat; see for your self:

She is sulking because she feels naked and knows the other dogs will make fun of her.   But I guarantee she will not swelter in this 90 degree heat we currently are suffering through, and that's all that matters. (I do think she looks ridiculous.)

Father's day was a success, N liked his stuff, and they fit.  We all agreed that a steak dinner would be best, even though he has to cook it; but it takes only 10 or 15 minutes, so no great sacrifice to his "take it easy" day.

I started this post several days ago, so the date is from the initial writing and not dated today, the 20th.  And I don't know how to change it.  (No surprise there.)

Bumper sticker for the day:  "If all the world is a stage, where is the audience sitting?"