You all are aware of the struggle that I have had trying to maintain my Basset’s toenails. Come to think of it, I can’t remember if I shared that issue or not. Like the days of the week, my blogs are all running together. Anyway, the vet can’t do it because they are only seeing pets that need vaccines or experiencing an emergency. I feel like her nails are an emergency, but apparently I am wrong.
I have made several attempts to file those suckers down. Not sure if you have seen the spawns of Satan that emerge from a Basset’s feet, but they are hard as rocks, and it takes a lot of muscle to clip them. Hence the reason I allow someone else to do it. This filer is made for pets. I was hopeful. Just like I was for the year 2020, and we all experiencing how that is going. I put peanut butter in a bowl to distract her, and while she worked on that, I started addressing her claws. And, that is what they are at this point. Big, ass claws that clickity clack on the floor.
She allows me the privilege of trying to file down one of her nails. It is tedious, friends. And honestly, I can’t tell if it is really working or not. In my delusional mind, I see the nail getting shorter. My mind isn’t always trustworthy. Then, all of the sudden, you would think I was murdering her. Even with the peanut butter, she is yelping and crying. For the love of Jesus. I stop. I surrender.
As I stood on the front porch the other day, I saw a mirage. It was a mobile pet grooming truck. Brian and I looked at each other as if we had just seen the promised land. So, I emailed them in an effort to pass off my problem to someone else. You know, someone that actually knows what they are doing. Filled with hope, I chatted with the owner as he called me in response to my email.
Grommer guy: I can get you in on April 26. I know that probably isn’t what you want to hear, but we have been inundated with new clients.
Me: Oh, I totally understand. Here is my issue. My Basset’s nails are ridiculous and by the 26th, I don’t think she will be able to walk because of their length. (I throw in subtle manipulation sprinkled with a little exaggeration, hoping to get a truck load of pity thrown my way.)
Groomer guy: (It was quiet on his end for a moment.) Since she isn’t get a haircut, I can squeeze her in for a bath and nail trim on Tuesday between 11 and noon. Will that work for you?
Subtle manipulation for the win!
Me: Pretty sure that I have nothing that day, and I will be home as well since we are quarantined. (I laugh because, well, where else would I be?)
Groomer guy: (He laughs too) Okay, I have you confirmed for Tuesday.
We say our goodbyes and disconnect the call. I didn’t bother with “good luck” to your groomer on her nails, because I didn’t want to scare them into cancelling the appointment. Tuesday can’t come soon enough.