As many of you know, Elly and I are spending this week preparing for her move to Dublin.
It's been a feverish whirlwind of activity - mostly organising, cleaning, packing, and curiously, shopping (does Ireland have shops? We both seem to be assuming they have none!)
While we're gone Nigel and Ian will be on they're own to cope for eleven days without me (I'm going for the first week and a bit to help her get settled, Elly has to stay for three years, you can read about her gripe about it here.). In anticipation of this we had a salon appointment booked for Whimsy to have a new 'do. Something short and kicky - and low maintenance. She has a coat which her stylist calls "rotten cotton", meaning it tangles easily and soaks up stains and spills like a rag.
Elly loves to keep Whimsy's topknot long and brush it up into a big Las Vegas-style spray with a bow. However, it always comes undone and looks a state in no time. Needless to say, I've been eagerly anticipating today, when we get to cut off that topknot and have the dog stay tidier. But wouldn't you know...
The night before last Whimsy was in the back garden, saw a rabbit, and chased it under the deck and out again, right through a weedy patch full of burrs.
She didn't even remotely resemble a dog anymore.
She was completely covered in burrs.
She sat on a towel on my lap and I painstakingly (for both of us) pulled them off her back, belly, legs and ears. It took four episodes of the X-Files worth of time - did I tell you I bought seasons 8 and 9 to watch while Ian and Nigel are in Alaska?
Thankfully Elly came home around midnight and took over. I left the worst parts, the tail and topknot, for her to do. She was up til the wee small hours, with good results.
And today was the day...
no more topknot.
Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!