Crapmaster O has been fighting getting his claws trimmed, lately. Son #2 and I have gotten tired of wrestling with him. So yesterday we took him to Petco (it is, after all, where all the pets go) and let the groomers there take care of it.
Otis is not a fancy dog, so we didn't spring for all the extras. Just clip those toes and we would be happy. It was a much more enjoyable experience for us people, and probably for Otis, as well. But I must admit I never thought of myself as the type of person to use a groomer. Heck, you could count on the fingers of one ink-stained hand how many times I've had my own nails professionally pampered. So I was feeling a bit sheepish.
Then we turned a corner in Petco and I saw this book.
I feel ever so much less crazy, after seeing that.
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