When I took Andy and Dougy in for their appointment at the groomers the 9th, Vic, the woman who cuts my hair, arrived at the same time I did. Her Yorkie had an appointment that morning, too.
We showed off our pets to each other, and I noted I took Andy and Dougy in for grooming every other month, the irony of which wasn’t lost on Vic: If she sees me once ever six months for an appointment, it’s a small miracle. In case she didn’t catch the irony (which of course she had!), I mentioned this odd priority that guides me to Murphy’s Grooming Salon for the boys, but not hers for my haircut.
“Yes, I ought to make an appointment,” I said, and she agreed we needed to do something about that Zeke the Trapper aura I projected with my wild hair.
Appointment made, I got the bush cut short yesterday. Why I wait so long I don’t know. My hair always feels good (oddly) after a haircut by a good hairdresser, which Vic definitely is. I let her decide how to cut it, how short, then leave a nice tip because she always gives me more than my money’s worth. Besides, by now, after all these years, I count her as a friend.
I pointed out all the Sasquatch sightings in the Nebraska Panhandle would slow down again now that she trimmed me up and made me as pretty as I can be made. It’s an on-going joke, though the Sasquatch sightings in Western Nebraska always do slow down after I get a haircut. Go figure.
Another aspect of my odd priority popped up in conversation. I spend $100 every other month on the boys’ grooming plus a nice tip since I am very pleased with their groomers and their consistently great job trimming up the boys in the now standard teddy bear cut. I spend $30 every six months (or so) on my own grooming, which includes the cost of cutting my hair plus a nice tip. That is to say, I spend $600 a year getting haircuts for cats, but exactly one-tenth that, $60, on my own haircuts!
An odd priority.
Now I should do something about that patriarch beard!