When I was young they nick-named me 'Parrot Puppy' because I had a habit of running up people's shirts to sit on their shoulders. To this day I don't understand why that made everyone laugh. I could see the world better up there and face licking was so much easier. I learned that trick the first time I went to the groomers. Those clippers scared me and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that I couldn't jump down off the table without hanging myself but I sure could crawl up and sit on her shoulder. For some reason, the clippers couldn't get to me up there.
I've had the same groomer all my life---15 ½ years---followed her all around town. It took me the longest time to appreciate the finer points of getting a haircut and I gave that woman holly hell in the meantime. My mom says the foo-foo shop she works at now is too expensive at $45.00 plus tip but she won't make me leave Marcia. For years, mom and dad said it wasn't fair to Marcia to change groomers after all she had to put up with in my early years. They used to say that Marcia looked like she'd been through a war after cutting my hair. One time it really wasn't my fault, though. I had to poop and she wouldn't let me off the table!
When I got to be around six-seven pounds my mom went on a mission to clip Parrot Puppy's wings. It was quite a test of wills but I eventually let her win because crawling up on shoulders was getting harder to do, being the growing boy that I was. But I didn't forget the skill. Sometime I'll tell you about my run-in with a monster cat. ©
Photos: Before and after my first haircut
Welcome to The Levi and Cooper Chronicles. I'm the 'Cooper' and my baby brother is the 'Levi.' We're not siblings in the literal sense of the word. He's a miniature schnauzer and I'm a miniature poodle but our differences go far beyond our breed. You see, I'm the famous angel dog who blogs from the