Took Scamp to a new groomer last week. The gal I’ve been using went on maternity leave, and her assistant just wasn’t sticking with the program. Last time, holy cow, he come home with his worst cut yet. Why I was almost embarrassed to be seen with him. In fact, it was so bad even my husband Charlie noticed. I could tell Scamp was kind of weirded out by it, too. Though Charlie says it’s ‘cause every time I saw Scamp I’d say something like, “Oh my, God! You don’t even look like my little Scamp anymore! No, you don’t! Who’s a homely little guy? You are. Yes, you are.”

So my niece Caitlin, who works down to Mahoosuc Health Food, tells me about this new place a couple of her friends just opened up called So Dog Gone Good. Which is, get this, a “Holistic Pet Spa.” Get out of town, right? A holistic pet spa in Mahoosuc Mills. Jiminy Christmas, it’s just like New York!

Anyways, I decide to give ‘em a try. Well, first I call up to make sure a “pet spa” isn’t twice as expensive as a “pet groomer.” Turned out it was about the same price. Well, five dollars more: nothing. I made an appointment.

Scamp’s big day was last Tuesday. And let me tell you, they were so nice in there! It’s run by young folks in their twenties, early thirties maybe. The gal, Heidi, picks up Scamp and holds him, kissing the top of his head as I fill out the paper work.

“What a cute little guy!” she says, all smiley. The other people working seem happy to be there, too. Other dogs are coming in and they’re happy to be there. I’m happy to be there. It’s just So Dog Gone Good.

Now as I’ve said before, we think Scamp is a Bichon-poodle mix. Don’t know for sure ‘cause he come from Poodle Rescue. And as I told Heidi, “Sometimes they groom him to look too much like a Bichon. You know, his head gets rounder and rounder. My husband starts calling him ‘Little Big Head.’ Or they make him look too like a poodle, which doesn’t suit his personality. I want him to look like his own self.”

“No problem,” Heidi replies, sizing him up. “We’ll take good care of him.” And off I go to work.

Just before lunch, So Dog Gone Good calls. It’s Heidi. The little guy’s ready! I scoot over on my break to get him and drop him home.

Well, Scamp comes out of the back room with this little green bandana on, “Magic Fairy Dust” (green sparkles) on his nose and sporting the best haircut he’s ever had. He really did look like his own self. Cute? Oh Mister Man, beyond cute!

That’s not all! Jake, the young tattooed fella who works there, starts reading me Scamp’s report card. That’s right, he got a report card! I’m happy to say he pretty much aced everything: Bathing, Drying, Brushing, Ears, Nails, Table Etiquette, Condo Etiquette, Potty Walks and Cookie Breaks: A+, across the board.

Jake continues reading the other side of the report card which tells everything Scamp’s spa treatment included. Get this: they give him a calming flower essence before they start, you know, to chill him out. Then, he got a blueberry-vanilla facial and an oatmeal and tea tree paw treatment. Later, when I told the girls about it, Shirley goes, “To hell with the New You Spa! Let’s go there!”

When he got home, I shared Scamp’s report card with Charlie.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” he says. “You kept a straight face while they were reading this to you?”

“It may be a little over the top, Charlie, but take a gander at the little guy. Scamp’s never looked better.”

“So how much did this ‘spa treatment’ cost us?”

“Only $60, including tip.”

“Sixty bucks! Jesum Crow! That’s more than I spend in a year to have my hair cut!”

“Well, honey, Scamp has a little more hair than you.”

“Very funny!”

“Listen, it’s only five dollars more than what we were paying before. I already booked his appointment for six weeks from now.”

Scamp’s report card was so impressive, I put it on the fridge. God knows, he just squeaked through Basic Manners class. It’s nice to have something to brag about.

The next morning, when Charlie and Scamp get back from their walk, Charlie says to me, “Scamp keeps liking his privates.”

“More than usual?”

“Yup. He won’t stop.”

“Is he licking his pee-pee, or the other?”

“Gees, Ida, I didn’t look that close.”

“Oh, for God sake!” So I pick Scamp up and check on things. Turns out, it was somewhere in-between, where he used to have something, but no longer does. Now there’s this raw, red spot, and he won’t stop lickin’ it.

I took him to the vet. Long and short of it? He’d gotten a little razor burn on that tender area which Scamp proceeded to lick into a $73 vet bill. We came home with some ointment and the Collar of Shame, or the “Queen Elizabeth,” as we call it.

It was my fault. I let Scamp go too long between trims. And, to be honest, I hadn’t been brushing him like I should. Heidi felt bad as all get out. Says she usually avoids getting real close in that tender area, but needed to because of a the knots.

Poor Scamp! He went from cock of the walk, with a new bandana and fairy dust, to the “Queen Elizabeth” in twenty-four hours. Where’s the justice?

That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side! Listen to Ida's podcast.

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