¡Aye Chihuahua!

Yesterday I took Molly to the salon for a day of pampering and primping before Grandma arrives and witnesses what a horrible mother I have been by letting Miss Princess walk around with burrs, leaves and dreadlocks in her previously silky coat. Every couple of weeks, I shampoo, condition, and blowdry her hair (you really can't call it fur) , but when it comes to the cut-- every girl knows that a home haircut from Mom results in jagged fringe-y bangs or a bowl-cut. I was running late for work when I dropped her off at the groomer and I told him to, " just cut it shorter," and I ran out the door. Now, obviously I would never say that to my stylist, I always give exact specifications about the color and thickness of the highlights, length of layers, etc.....but seriously, how can you describe a doggy haircut? They usually just wash and trim, cut her nails, put a creepy little bow in her hair, and it's all good. Well...not this time. Jeff, the light-in the-loafers-dog-groomer, went Edward Scissorhands on Molly's lil' ass....
So, here is our little chihuahua:


When he brought her out to me, I must have gasped pretty loud beacuse he said, "You hate it." I wasn't sure yet, but I just had to laugh because she reminded me of the time John cut off one side of her whiskers. And then after getting a good look at her and realizing how excited she was about it- I love it. She thinks she is cuter than a button and is feelin' all sleek and sassy. I don't know if she feels lighter without the extra pounds of debris clinging to her shaggy legs, or if it's just that she can see where she's going--but she has been doing sprints around the house and yard non-stop since I brought her home. Maybe she's running for the border?? Watch out Señor, Molly might quiero su trabajo...