Yesterday, I posted the sad tale of what happened when my four men were left alone in the house with a dog who was in desperate need of a haircut.

Oh my goodness! When I came home from my book club meeting, my youngest couldn’t wait to tell me what they had done. I was ushered into the living room to see the creative results of their efforts. Mainly, I think, they just wanted to see (and laugh at) my reaction.

I’ve always taken Bella to a professional dog groomer. We are trying, though, to reduce our expenses and so haircuts for the poodle have been one of those things crossed off the list. One of these days we will buy a hair clipper for her, but it hasn’t happened yet, and Bella had become very, very shaggy.

So, the boys took it upon themselves to do the job the other night. With scissors. Which is very difficult and very time-consuming. Which means they cut the hair on her head, and that was it. Which mean that when I saw her, her head looked about four sizes too small for the rest of her. Plus, they’d decided to leave a tuft of hair (“It’s her crown!”, says Carter) on the top of her head. As if she didn’t look ridiculous enough!

Yesterday afternoon I took up the scissors myself, and managed to trim the rest of her. But I left the tuft. I don’t want my boys to think I don’t have a sense of humour, after all! And today, at nap time, this is where I found my sweet girl.

Dogs are such forgiving creatures.

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