Peticure or Pet Annoy?

J means well.

that's my new mantra--J really does mean well. She has good intentions.

No matter how you say it...it's the same.

She means well.

I, however, object to her methods.

Here's the thing. I know my nails get long. I know we have a wooden floor. Traction is not always readily available to me. And I am aware that I hate having my nails trimmed.

One bad experience with that and you'd hate it, too.

See, people can't always tell where the flesh part of a dog's nails meets the nail part. When they make an error, we bleed -- which usually hurts, as you can imagine. So I don't like folks grabbing my paws and feet, and especially coming at me with sharp implements.

Not only that, since J doesn't drive, getting places can be a chore.

Well, the kid had a great idea. Get a Peticure! she said. I didn't really know what that was, but it delayed the toenail torture, so I was okay with it.

J looked it up on the machine, went to Amazon and read the reviews. It's like a drill, she told me, with sandpaper on the end.

A drill? So, a rotary tool of sorts. Something that spins real fast with an abrasive material on the end made for dulling surfaces or stripping paint off of things or whatever.

And her plan was to apply that to my sensitive nails. Sand away the tips of my toes.

I say was because, yes, she did.

She determined that Dremel was the most recommended appliance by Amazon shoppers, paid whatever, and it came in the mail.

The good news is, it took her several days to get around to it. Other good news is she gave me many milk bones first to bribe me, then to repay me for my trauma.

Oh yeah, there was trauma. (Some of it HER trauma. Ask her how that Dremel felt against HER skin)

I'm sulking right now, because she says she intends to do it again in a few days.

Sulking is like pouting only more. Ask J. She's gonna be an expert in telling the difference, I promise you.

I have to go. My paws hurt.

Cosmo