The Shaggy Dog (and Human) Transformation

 

Maggie had a grooming appointment the other week – shampoo, cut, blow-dry, nails – you know, the works. We were even springing for the dremel for her nails, which cost a few extra bucks.

 

And okay, so truthfully the dremel was for our own self-preservation…sometimes those nail trims leave sharp edges that hurt.

 

When we picked her up, Maggie had been transformed from the Shaggy Dog to CinderYorkie. She looked divine and smelled wonderful, to boot!

 

After I booked her appointment it occurred to me that Maggie gets beautified more often than I do these days.  I no longer get my nails done twice a month – unless I do them myself.  And I hadn’t had a hair appointment in well over seven months! How does that happen?!

 

Well, truthfully, I can withstand hair growth for seven months – it’s long, but it’s not going to interfere with my daily activities. Maggie, on the other hand, would be dragging a mop of Yorkie hair through the snow and mud on her walks.  Ick.

 

That is so not happening since I refuse to give her daily baths. Thus, it’s not all that surprising that we have her groomed more often. It’s more of a necessity – for me if not for her.

 

Nevertheless, I finally booked a hair appointment for myself.  My hair hadn’t been this long in years and I was kind of getting used to it, but it was definitely time for at least a trim.

 

For me, having my hair long makes it much easier to deal with than when it’s shorter and has some sort of style. I have to blow dry it or it frizzes – and I then have to either flat iron or curl it.

 

Instead, these days I just wash it and leave it alone.

 

My mom used to tell me that women over 40 shouldn’t have long hair. And then she changed it to 50 because I wasn’t listening to her. I thought my only other option in the short hair style was the permed poodle do.  (Can you tell I’ve never really ever had a successful short hairstyle?)

 

So I guess I’ve decided that I’m going to be that old lady with the long white hair she twines around her head in a bun. Or with the long grey braid down her back

Before

 

But I digress.

 

For now, I have to wonder why it even matters. I mean, where am I going during this pandemic that I need to impress anyone with my hairdo? I can pretty much guarantee that nobody at Kroger gives two flips about what I look like. As long as I’m wearing a mask.

 

Anyway, I drove to Alissa’s house and she transformed me once again. She only trimmed it so I no longer resembled the Shaggy Dog and put in some highlights to balance the color a little more.

 

After

I have to admit – I felt better. And I felt a little pampered. And that’s okay.

 

I feel fortunate that as I’m aging, my hair is turning white and gray, which makes it look lighter and it blends into the rest of my hair.  And, because it wasn’t really dark to begin with I haven’t had to deal with major lines of demarcation between the blonde and the grey.

 

But one thing I’ve learned during the last ten months of this pandemic is that manicured nails and perfect hair are really not all that important.

After

 

What is most important are the relationships we have with the people in our lives.

 

I miss seeing friends and getting (and giving) hugs. I miss date nights with Vince without having to weigh the pros and cons of going out in public. And I miss gathering for weddings and, yes, even funerals to honor those we love and care about.

 

So one of these days we will be able to once again gather together without being concerned about transmitting a virus that – for some people – can be deadly.  And maybe we’ll remember what it’s like not to have to wear a mask every time we leave our home. And hopefully we can eliminate the need for virtual, well, anything – virtual meetings, virtual parties and virtual book clubs.

 

Because, let’s face it – you still have to fix up a little when you participate in virtual meetings. Shaggy Dog hair notwithstanding.

 

But a virtual hug just isn’t the same as the real thing.

 

I can’t wait!

 

In the interim, I’ve decided that feeling a little better after a hair appointment can also be good. It’s a balance thing. And I’m okay with that.

Ditzy Blonde, Senior Moment or COVID brain. You Decide.

If you read my last blog, you know that Vince and I have been recovering from COVID-19. We thank you all for the get-well comments, prayers and well wishes you sent.

And, while I’m not going to say that we’re 100% recovered yet, we are nearly there. I, for one, get pretty tired after walking the dog and doing other physical activity.

Like emptying the trash. Or watering the plants.

Okay, so I’m pretty much kidding on those. But we were both completely winded and worn out the other day from packing up all the Christmas decorations and hauling the heavy bins upstairs to the attic.

On the other hand, I was probably a little winded hauling the heavy bins downstairs in late November to decorate for Christmas. And that was pre-COVID.

Sheesh. I really need this virus to go away so I can get back to the gym and work out without wearing a mask!

So while there was very little to laugh about while we were sick, there were a few humorous things that happened to me while I was dealing with this virus.

Call it COVID brain, or ditzy blonde or senior moment – or maybe all three – but I did have a few duh situations.

Like one day when I was upstairs working on the computer. I was trying to finish something in between naps – and I needed to set a timer. I kept asking “Alexa” on my phone to set a timer for 20 minutes.

But she refused to comply. After about the third time asking, I got a little peeved and raised my voice to ask once again.

And that’s when I heard – very faintly from downstairs – “Okay, timer set for 20 minutes.”

Oops.

Apparently I couldn’t remember the difference between “Hey Siri” on my iPhone and “Alexa” on our Amazon Echo Show.

(Do you see me rolling my eyes and shaking my head?)

Another time I was tasked with walking Maggie even though I was feeling pretty rotten.  Since Vince was feeling pretty rotten himself, but the dog still needed to do her business, we took turns.

Because it was so cold and rainy out, I put on one of Maggie’s little jackets over her harness vest. There are two D-rings attached to the harness – and those attach to the leash. Except that only one of the D-rings fit through the opening in the jacket.  We’ve hooked her up this way many times before, so I didn’t think anything of it. I clipped her leash to the one D-ring and off we went.

Immediately I saw her nemesis from another neighborhood being led down the street past our house, so I hurriedly turned and walked Maggie the other way down the cul-de-sac. I really wasn’t up for the crazy dog barking that would ensue if Maggie saw him.

By the way, we have no idea what Maggie has against this little guy, but she goes absolutely bonkers whenever she sees him.

Anyway, there we were walking along minding our own business when suddenly I had the leash in my hand…but the other end was not attached to Maggie. The D-ring had somehow separated from the harness and Maggie was trotting along completely unaware that she was untethered.

Believe me, if she had known, she would’ve taken off like a shot. This is not a well-behaved dog when it comes to her freedom in the great outdoors.

But I tried to remain calm and I hurried along behind her so she’d think she was still attached to the leash. When she stopped to take a quick squat, I reached down and scooped her up.

Ha! Way to outsmart a 10 pound dog, Jane! But in my defense, I really didn’t think I was up for a Maggie on the Run incident right about then.

Oh, and by the way, I waited to scoop her up until AFTER she was done squatting. I was neither blonde nor senior enough – and I didn’t have a completely muddled COVID brain to know that I needed to let her conclude her business.

The last incident happened toward the end of our home confinement. We had placed a grocery order for pick-up – and I was planning to ride to the store with Vince so a store clerk could put the bags in our trunk.

Major outing, huh?

But as it was the first time in over a month that I was going to leave the house, I decided to slap on a little face paint.

It was like a little celebration for me – put on a bit of blush. Some undereye cover-up. Maybe even a little eyeliner and lipstick. You know – so I could feel almost normal again.

Anyway, I had just sat down in front of my makeup mirror. I spun my rotating makeup organizer to the section that holds my cover-up, pulled the one out that has a spongy tipped wand. I was feeling too lazy to actually get out a makeup brush and dab from one of the little pots of cover-up.

So I swept the wand under my eye…and then looked at myself in the mirror in horror. I had just taken a mascara wand and swiped black mascara underneath my right eye.

I looked like a football player about to go out and pound on the opposing team. All I needed to finish the look…well, besides swiping mascara underneath my left eye for a matching set…was a helmet and some shoulder pads.

At that moment, I thought to myself that I should take a picture of my idiot move, but given that the mascara was waterproof, I knew I needed to remove it. Stat.

So that’s what I did – the whole time shaking my head and laughing at myself.

And then I promptly returned the mascara to the Mascara and Eyeliner Section in the organizer and wondered who could have put it in the wrong section? Not me, certainly, as I’m perfect.  Must’ve been one of the cats getting her revenge over our bringing a dog into the house.

Yeah, I’d believe one of the cats did it before I’d admit that I’m not perfect.

Heh heh. (There I go again – being a ditzy blonde, having a senior moment AND showing my COVID brain…!)

Maybe I need a nap. Yeah, that’s it.

Let’s just hope I don’t fall out of bed or something else equally as goofy!