It’s gotten bad. (That’s his face…!)
Everything I wrote before about important posts and cover posts is just so much misdirection. I’m worried about the important stuff. Raebert is getting a haircut tomorrow. I have to deliver him between 7:30 and 9:00 to a ‘professional.’ Who’s a professional when it comes to deerhounds? No one I’ve ever met.
I wouldn’t do it. But he’s a mess. A complete and utter mess.
Seems like just a few weeks ago that I had it sort of under control. Brushings and like that. Then it all just went nuts.
Ever seen a coat like that? Thicker than all the thistles in Scotland.
Lying down, at a distance like that and stuff, he looks even worse.
What happened to my beamish boy? He’s becoming a sinister Harry Potter forest.
But I have faith. In him if nothing else.
Because I know who he is underneath the everything.
My Boy.
Before we knew him, he knew us. He was waiting for us. Don’t talk to us about scary.
Ha! I must share: I had this post up in my browser. The red-headed five-year-old was walking by, pointed at the pictures, and said “That needs to be brushed!”
Indeed. Be sure to post the “after” pictures, so I can show him.
Take heart, he’s going to look like the prince he is. There might be a short period of ‘awkward new haircut’, but before too long, you’ll see him with the new cut as the norm.
Can’t do it today. Had a severe senior moment yesterday. (You don’t want to know.) We’re just going to hang out for a bit for now.
Lady Laird is right. Get thee to a cuttery!