Not Happy

I have seen it coming for days. There is just no other reason why I would be allowed to walk two days in a row in the glorious hoof prints of my friends the sheep. Or why mum would keep bringing up my desperate (?) need of a face shave. A bath was somehow inevitable.

I was lucky in a way, though. It was sunny, and when it is sunny, our glassed in balcony gets very warm in the late afternoon. If I take refuge to my armchair, mum lets me stay there and no blow dryer is ever involved. I do need brushing, but it's still way better.

Some of my poodle friends definitely don't have to have face shaves as often as I do. Or baths, for that matter. Mum seems unable to explain this to me.