I 'square up' to Crystal for her pre-cut, comb out, every two months. After 5 rounds of exhaustive brushing and combing, where she assaults every implement I possess with her splendid teeth, we drive the three miles to the salon. This is set in a little out-house in a 'Fairy Tale' cottage garden, with a gurgling brook and a welcoming tranquility, post the stress of conflict.
I sit with Wendy's
(our cutters) husband, whilst we catch up on cricket scores, coffee and Aspirin in my shaking hand.
I then watch through the bay window, with unfolding incredulity as she allows 'Wendy' to do anything with her she likes to her tresses, whilst eying me with mischievous glee!
"Ah, if only they were all as well behaved as dear little Crystal", coo's this lovely lady as we leave.
I won't tell you what I call her in the car going home - The little minx!
