Murry looks like a tan sheepdog with a growing-out perm. He has beautiful hair, but HATES having it cut. Once it reaches a certain length, though, there's no other option. He ends up carrying half the back yard in the house with him every time he goes out.
One groomer called my husband not 45 minutes after Murry was dropped off. "Come get your dog," the guy said.
"He's finished already?" Geoff asked.
"No," said the groomer. "But I am."
When Geoff arrived, only Murry's body and parts of his legs had been shaved. His head and butt area were still long and curly. The groomer appeared to be low a few pints of blood.
I later fixed up Murry at home as best as I could, but it wasn't easy. He panicked upon seeing the scissors.
I've tried so many different things, including purchasing electric dog clippers and leaving them running for hours so he would get accustomed to the sound. It sounded like a good idea. Didn't work.
Last night, though, I might've accidentally found my answer. I spent about 10 minutes holding Murry down while giving him a scissor cut at home. In those 10 minutes, I didn't cover much ground, but when I saw he was reaching a certain level of frenzy, I put down the scissors and said, "Ready for your car ride?"
Murry was so overjoyed by the prospect that he seemed to forget all about the haircut. When we got back home, I waited a little while before taking up the scissors again. Murry still wasn't happy, but after about 10 more minutes of snipping, I said, "Car ride?" And off we went again.
I'm thinking if I can get him to connect getting his hair trimmed with going for a car ride, I might be able to turn this around and make grooming into something he actually likes. (Although I'd settle for something he tolerates less violently.)