Today, I embark on a mission... a personal mission to bring good grooming to each of my five hounds of hell puppies. You see, it is a personal mission because there is not a single one of them that enjoys the process of receiving a haircut. It's not a cake walk for their so called stylist either. Instead, it is a battle of the wills... and I am not sure I can win.

It started with the "momma" dog. She was the first, and at the tender age of 6 months, after her fine puppy fur transformed to an adult matted mess, we brought our little cotton ball to a groomer. There is a lot about timing that can make or break you, and our timing was excruciatingly bad. I dropped her at the groomer for an 11 a.m. appointment, and fought my way back to get her during one of the worst thunderstorms/ tornado watches we have had in the last 7 years. After traveling about 8 miles through torrential downpours and non-working traffic lights, I arrived to find a shaking bundle of pink skin, in the groomer's den that had no electricity. Of course they had electricity when they shaved every bit of hair off of her, leaving her to be a tremoring pile of pink skin and bones. Then they put her in a cage to wait for me to come and save her.

A traumatized puppy had realized she was shorn, and refused to move for the next week. This was reinforced by everyone that saw her asking "What did you do to her?" She knew she was no longer the beautiful cotton ball that was brought to the groomer that morning. Subsequent haircuts taught us to tell her how pretty she was throughout the process, and to constantly reinforce that she is a "Pretty Momma".

Now, 6 1/2 years later, she has taught her babies well. They all tremble at the sight of the professional buzzers we bought to make sure her day at the groomer's never has to be relived. We do the haircuts ourselves, in the comfort of their own home. They are free to take needed breaks from the buzzing, wrestle their stylist, play with their "humans" and cry at their loss of hair... and so it begins...