For someone who gets snippy when a veterinarian tries to pet her or coo at her, Smidge forgives their misgivings of trying to help when they bring out the nail clippers.
When someone in scrubs carries my little hellion away from me, with her tiny, mesh muzzle in one hand, to the back lab where pet parents cannot go to trim her nails, they always return with the following report:
“Someone was a very good girl!” or even better, “She was a little angel!”
And sometimes, “I didn’t even need to muzzle her.”
EXCUSE ME!? My precious, hell-raising, darling, rescue baby with a dislike of all things medical (or plastic wheels, or big brown dogs, or… you know what, this list could go on a while) was calm, relaxed, and even pleasant with the vet tech and her snippy clippers?
Despite being a dog that has an affection for eating out of the garbage, Smidge can be… bourgeois. Bougie. Snooty-boots. Including wearing tutus and being carried around like royalty, but especially when it comes to her nails. I’m pretty positive she’d sit still to have them painted if someone else did it. She doesn’t like it when I cut her nails, no, heaven forbid Mommy cuts her nails at home. To be fair, I bought clippers with a guard, which failed me, and I nipped the quick. Screams echoed through the halls, a dramatic collapse ensued, and intense organ music played in the background.
So I’ve been hesitant to cut her nails myself after the operatic failure that was our first trim. Sometimes I get them done at a vet’s office or take her to a big box pet store. She doesn’t seem to mind waiting to get her nails done, either. At least, her long, glossy black nails seem to tippy-tap just as well as her short, glossy, black nails do.
I found a vet Smidge really liked – Smidge even let the doctor get a snuggle in last time – and since she is overdue for a nail trim, we are headed there tomorrow to get some quality pampering in.
We’re also there to talk about getting Smidge a dental, but I’ll keep that a secret if you do.
