Groomed and Clean Shaven…

“Doc? You sure she’s old enough to groom Maggie?” I asked out of the groomer’s earshot.

The groomer looked like she was sixteen.  Maggie was shaking nervously like a leaf.  And I wanted this to go smoothly.

“She’s 22,” he said, smiling at my concern. “She’s the best groomer I’ve ever hired.”

I went back to the waiting room for awhile - taking some consolation from Dr. Thomas’ words.  I felt really strange today.  My stomach was a bundle of butterflies.  I was having periods of confusion.  I took solace in the fact that dad would be here around three with my medications.  I could sleep then once the calming effects of my clonazepam hit my bloodstream.

“You know what I always tell your mother, don’t you?” Dr. Thomas said in his characteristically heavy Southern drawl as he walked out of backroom with Maggie in his arms.  “This dawg sho did win the Gawgia lottery when your father found her.  Y’all take good care of your animals.”

I laughed and smiled.  Maggie looked like a different dog.  You could actually see her eyes now.  She was so self conscious of her looks as well.  It was as if she knew she was the center of attention – in the spotlight so to speak.  She was certainly glad to be home and so was I.