So, from time to time, I browse the help wanted section. Ok, I check missed connections too, but only because I like that the guy posting "Blond girl at the gas station on this date at this time-you changed my life!" postings! But I digress..
Someone wanted their dog shaved. They were willing to pay 50 dollars for this task, which my hairdressing butt knew would only take an hour, tops. Since I already had the dog clippers, I emailed the guy and told him he had a deal.
Fifteen minutes later, Francis was dropped off at my apartment.
Francis is...holy shit. Huge. Francis is a dude golden retriever, maybe? All I know is that when I thought "shave my dog", I saw...well, Charlie, my dog. My 12 pound dog. Francis is *not* 12 pounds. Francis is...like, 100 pounds. Probably more. Oh yeah, did I mention I'm allergic to dogs?!?!?!
This is not the most interesting part of the story by any means.
Francis (aka Frank) and I bond for a minute over peanut butter dog treats, and we talk about what is going to go down here. I ask him to cooperate. He shows me that he understands by batting at me with his behemoth dog arm. On the right track.
Off to the shaving, which is going well, except the dog apparently does not like to be touched. Anywhere. By anything. He whimpers and scatters away like you are trying to kill him. No matter. I'm as scrappy as the next chick! We work it out.
Frank's human was supposed to be back in an hour.
Frank's human was not answering his phone at an hour and a half. Mind you, this is after I found the fleas.
These are the scenarios that ran through my mind: Cydney gets a dog she's allergic to! Cydney runs around frantically trying to track down owner! Cydney takes dog to pound before picking her son up from school!
There I sat, middle of my kitchen floor, surrounded by mounds of dog hair, tethered to a giant Lion of a dog with domestic violence issues.
I only cried on the inside.
You see, I am a woman of action! Not much common sense, but definitely a lot of action! I got out the flea shampoo and gave Frank a flea bath. Then I combed him. Then I let him rest while I cleaned up all of the dog hair that had gone...like...everywhere. Frank and I chatted a few more minutes, mostly about his swatting and how that needs to stop, it's just poor form. Frank and I half bonded.
And then the human showed up, 2 hours, 45 minutes after the original pick up time!
And that's how I made 65.00 today.
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| Frank says, "Hi!" |
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