An instrument of evil
It is difficult to catch such an evil instrument in a clear photo because it defies the casual hunter by never resting where you last saw it. When you need it, it's no where. When it has finished using you for its torture of innocent animals it is everywhere you go, reminding you of the pain you have inflicted on the furry creatures you love. That's right: this is a canine nail clipper.
This is Chick, its last victim.As crazy as it is that a person like me, a former dog hater (I feared them dramatically until I was twenty five at which time the fear began to loosen its hold on me), could love a dog so much that it makes me hurt to imagine letting her live with anyone else...it's true. Chick is such a big bag of chewing trouble. She has needs, like the second child I swore I wouldn't have. But she has a hold on my heart. I think it's largely because of the cute way in which she carries her fake corn cob around in the side of her mouth like a giant cigar. I love the irony that she's half black lab, which is the dog I feared more than any other dog. I think the irony deepens knowing that she's a quarter pit bull, a dog I have surprisingly never particularly feared. She's so full of fun, energy, and huge love. Like most dogs, she expresses a lot of that love through licking her people as though they are tasty muffins.
I do my best to take good care of her. What do I know about dogs? I'm a novice. She's the first one I've ever had. I'm a cat person. Cats I understand. So I have read about dogs and watched every episode of "The Dog Whisperer" that I can find at the video store. I brush her sometimes, bath her when she rolls in something lusciously sticky and stinky, and I walk her. (Or make Philip do it.) So last night I thought I should finally clip her nails. They're long and strong and very hurtful. She was relaxed and it seemed the perfect opportunity to deepen my care of this canine Capricorn.
The first one I barely nipped off a shaving. I was scared to hurt her. (APPARENTLY WITH GOOD REASON.) Then I shrugged off my worries, they're nails like ours right? As long as I don't cut them to the quick she'll be fine. So I cut a mere eighth inch off of the next one which caused her to leap up squealing, turn around several times in agitation, lick me in fear, and bleed all over me. Not a lot. But that toe nail of hers bled for at least a half an hour. On the carpet, on my pants, on the Deco couch, and on the wood floor. You can't put a band aid on a dog nail. They don't understand apologies.
And of course, being good loyal human companions, they immediately forgive you. Can I just tell you how crushed I felt to have made my first ever dog bleed?! I wanted to crumple myself up into a wad and toss myself out. I never did this with my kid. (It's pretty classic to cut your newborn's finger accidentally while trying to cut their razor sharp nails for the first time.)
It's the next morning and she's not leaving little dots of blood every where she walks now, but I still feel awful. I can tell you one thing: I will never clip my dog's nails again.