Having just returned to Charlotte from a working trip abroad, I decided to bring my incredibly awesome (and ridiculously attractive) girlfriend a Starbucks Triple Grande White Choc from the drive thru, across the street from her work. Pulling up to the building, instantly sends the dogs inside a grooming shop into a fury of excitement, much the way a little boy becomes upon seeing the row of parents coming to collect their children at the end of a school day. Happy barks and yelps provide the audio to a visual backdrop of wagging tails and dog faces peering through the windows of the shop.
I walk inside, with the coffees, wearing my Buckle jeans, and Guess Pea-coat, over a black V-neck. Like I said, ridiculously attractive girlfriend, and I just got back in town. ;) Walking through the reception area, I enter the grooming area. The far wall of the well lit (and spacious) room is lined with large windows, and about five tables, each occupied by an employee. Most groomers wear what appears to be a set of scrubs made from a very slick, and tightly woven nylon, of various colors: though usually black, with colored piping.
There she was, exuding hottness, with her nurse-like attire, carefully trimming a perfectly symmetrical line into the hair of some-kind-of-furball-dog's jawline. She looked so happy to see me enter, and though she had seen my jeep arrive, had not taken her focus off of this perfect line of hair. My ego scoffed at the idea of being dismissed on the account of a misshapen quadroped?!? And I Brought Coffee?!? lol. She calmly finished her edging, inspected her work, then set the dog on the floor. To be honest, I didn't see what was so important. It's just a dog's haircut, so why all of the ceremony, and tedious detail? "Sorry, but he was being good, and I wanted to get his face straight before he got too excited" she knowingly explained, and gave me an extremely welcoming kiss! "Thank you for the coffee" she followed.
A few months later, as spring approached, I noticed that the remarkably overweight Sheltie that I had inherited (against my will, because I travel so often) was panting uncontrollably, and continuously drinking excessive amounts of water. My immediate conclusion was that he was obviously overheating because of the encumbering weight of fur that he was burdened with upon birth. Having never actually worked on any dog's anything, but Flashing back to the memories of my GF (Kat) grooming countless dogs, I rush to my apartment's under-sink cabinet, and retrieve the clippers. I mean, really. How hard could this be?
Two hours later, I'm still not done, and this poor (though remarkably patient) animal is looking more and more like and old fat man's pale white thigh, wearing a sheltie head for underwear. It's an intrusive memory that haunts my self-image, and dreams. I finally surrender trying to make this look anything other than what it is (a completely botched attempt to emulate Kat's profession), take the guard off of my $30 Walmart clippers, and shave this sheltie bald. I would post a picture, but I'm sure it would get flagged as inappropriate content.
The next day, Kat came to visit, forcing me to reveal my ignorance, and the shame of my shorn "Boots" She stood aghast at my folly, shaking her head in disbelief. "I hope it grows back" she said. I guessed it might take a month or so for him to have a nice coat of short hair. "No. I really hope it grows back at all!" she insisted. She explained that it wasn't his fur that was causing his symptoms, and that it was probably a health issue requiring a vet to run blood-work for Thyroid. I called the previous owner, and was told that they had already checked that possibility. Kat was unconvinced.
Six months later, his fur began to return: patchy at first, then more even. It was nine months before he began to look like his former self. His new coat lacked definable color, and was more course than I remembered. By that autumn, having recognized that I once knew nothing about dogs, I had been apprenticing with Kat when my work schedule allowed for about six months. During this time, I had bathed another overweight sheltie (a then client of ours, "Freemont"), a few times..... Segue: It is a horribly involved process to thoroughly bathe an overweight, full coated Shetland Sheepdog!!! Back-breakingly, and finger-pruningly involved!....
Right, back to the story... So, it's now September, and in walks Freemont. He's lost at least 15lbs, and is trotting around like a puppy!?! I couldn't believe that in only 2ish months this dog had literally transformed into a dog of half his age! I immediately ask his owner what had changed. "Thyroid" she responded. I alert Kat to this amazing new discovery, to which she responds with a light shrug, and that "not surprised"-"kinda told you so" eyebrow raise.
It only took a little trust, persistence, and two vet visits (totaling less than $300, pills included). Now Boots looks and moves with all of the regal majesty of his breed!
To this day, I am amazed at the overwhelming amount of knowledge an experienced groomer must employ. That Kat knew the probable cause of, and conclusion to Boot's ailment astonishes me still. Groomers deal with hundreds, if not thousands of animals, over a career. They have developed an expertise on, and catalog of a variety of skin and coat issues. In a single grooming session, a groomer literally inspects every inch of a dog, and is often the first to inform an owner of an abnormality. To a groomer, this is not a service, it's a courtesy: one that had I exercised earlier, may have prevented the unnecessary embarrassment that comes with walking a naked sheltie.
Kat and I are now partners in our own Grooming Spa, and though it's 50/50, I trust and follow her expertise explicitly. Maybe you should too. :) Find a great groomer, and you may discover how amazing your dog can truly be! Check us out at http://lotuspaw.com/ to schedule an appointment with Kat, in the Harrisburg, NC area. Thanks for reading.
