I knew this about hair dryers.
What I did not know and would never have believed, ever in my entire life before now, is that, since I can’t even consistently coif my own hair, I’d be wielding a hair dryer . . .
. . . on the dog.
This is how it all went down.
Wednesday was a snow day here in Montgomery County. Basically that means we had 1 1/2 inches of snow and, to assure the safety of the general public, Montgomery County Public Schools were closed.
(The shouts of joy in our house could certainly be heard from long off . . . and schedules were juggled yet again by parents whose employers are, sadly, not scared of 1 1/2 inches of snow.)
Due to the snow, the dog, who is now officially the male member of our family with the most hair (further comment on this issue would not be welcomed by some individuals who remain nameless, so we move along . . .), ended up covered with slush and sidewalk salt as a result of his regular forays outside. (On another note, we’re almost there with the house training. Really, we are so close. Thanks be to God.)
I, the parental figure elected to supervise safety during a day of treacherous 1 1/2 inches of snowfall, decided that dog needed a bath.
One of the most wonderful things about Nunya, our new puppy, is that, though he does have quite a bit of hair, he does not shed. (This was essential in his acquisition–read more here.) Nevertheless, a slush and salt-covered dog is not something I generally like running around my house, so the kids helped me get ready to give that dog a bath. As we collected the puppy shampoo and some towels in the bathroom (kitchen sink is too small now that the canine has grown to 11 pounds) I noticed out of the corner of my eye Hannah’s raspberry smoothie shampoo.
(If you don’t already know this for a fact, I suggest you just take my word for it.)
I did it then, and I don’t care what all of you dog-loving, canine-shampoo only champions think.
I slathered that dog with raspberry smoothie shampoo until every inch of him was covered in suds and he smelled fabulous.
Much like a raspberry smoothie, in fact.
All rinsed off and looking like a drowned (11-pound) rat but smelling really, really great, he was smothered instantaneously by several towels in a group effort to dry him off.
In spite of these efforts, the poor dog was still slightly damp (so much hair, you know, hard to dry with a towel–or two or three). And, being the diligent mother I am, with the treacherous 1 1/2 inches of snow outside, I didn’t want that poor dog catching a cold just because I insisted on making him smell like a frozen blended drink.
That’s when the hair dryer came out. (This is so embarrassing.)
To his credit, the poor puppy was generally cooperative in efforts to blow dry his fur. I wouldn’t say he liked it, but when we were finished he was not shivering anymore. And he looked fabulous.
As you can see, he quickly warmed to his new look, coiffed and teased, blown dry into a big ball of fluff. And smelling really absolutely great (like Hannah, actually).
And all was well . . . until about 15 minutes later when, probably as a result of all the trauma, Nunya had to go outside again. I encourage this behavior, but you know what happened. Only a few minutes after (I can’t believe I am writing about this) using my hair dryer on my dog, he returned to the house, once again, covered in slush and salt.
But, I maintain, he still smelled great . . . .
(PHOTOS BY HANNAH!)