White Dog looked at me and said, "You are stalling." Steve was all set up in the kitchen and I was still fussing on some open windows on the computer. I was, in fact, stalling.
It was well past haircut time. So far so that I had actually set up the appointment with Steve for this evening's shearing. But I hate being fussed with; the idea of sitting through a manicure (for example) makes me squirm in discomfort and close my hands into fists. Fortunately Steve the architectural model builder and he of steady hands mastered clipping my hair when we were still in school and pennies saved were treasures.
I sighed and got up. Every single pup of the White Dog Army followed me out to the kitchen and became puzzled when I sat on the old sewing bench. Steve wrapped an old sheet around me and the White Dog Army surged toward me in a movement of protection.
"Better put up the baby gate," I told my barber. "They will be totally underfoot and Opal will be stealing hair otherwise." Steve backed the WDA to the threshold and reached for the gate.
Benson broke through the barricade to jump into my lap and thrust his head deeply against me. "It is all right Ben-Ben," I said to calm him. He did not look convinced nor did he move. "Sweet boy, I am not going to be hurt. You can watch the entire thing...from the other side of the gate." Benson was NOT leaving voluntarily. Steve picked him up and lifted him to the living room side...where all of the others sporting looks of horror and pity were crushed against the gate .
When Steve turned on the clippers, Zsofia began to keen and soon Sachi and the others were howling along. "White Dog..." I started to ask her to explain to the others...but I dropped the thought upon seeing her perched on the chair nearest the kitchen leaning over the gate and crying along.
As Steve worked and my locks dropped I tried to reassure all that no humans were being injured and that this was a good thing. My coughing over bits of hair falling into my mouth did not present a very convincing argument
When he finished I went into the bathroom to lean over the tub and wash the tiny itching bits from my scalp and neck...of course the WDA accompanied me. As I toweled my head every pup had to peer into the bathtub, then sniff the towel, and finally give my my entire head a good going over.
I took each furry face into my hands. "Satisfied?" I asked and kissed each head.
Now I am the one unconvinced...I think they are all staring at me as we work.