This is SO embarrassing. And you know what I heard Gail saying to a friend this week?
"Oh well, I guess I'll have got the hang of it by the time he's ten".
Just like that. All relaxed. As if there was no problem.
I mean. It's my fur. My coat. My beautiful fuzzy coat.
Would you want to spend the prime of your life looking like a badly shorn sheep?
Yes, the bad news is that Gail has decided that she will try to master the art of hand-stripping and grooming me, despite (I'm told) a fairly disastrous attempt one time to do the same with poor old Hamish.
Well I can tell you I am not at all impressed with the results of last weekend's efforts with the stripping knife and scissors, and I think you can see why.
The good news is that she soon gave up with Hamish and put him into the hands of a competent professional.
I live in hope....