There must be something in the crisp autumn air that whispers, “It’s haircut season.” Everywhere you look, people and dogs are getting snipped and styled. The trees shed their leaves for free while the rest of us pay dearly to do the same.
It started innocently enough. Oliver, our sweet, shaggy little dog, is in need of a serious fall cleanup. His fur has grown so long that he’s beginning to resemble a dust mop. So, we’ll travel through the desert to the groomer. After a few hours, he’ll return looking handsome in his tiny little tie… along with a bill for $80. Eighty dollars! It’s all part of the cost of owning a dog these days.
This time of year, I question my own judgment. Why do dog owners everywhere cut off a dog’s natural winter coat right before freezing winds howl across the desert? His hair was doing exactly what nature intended, providing fuzzy insulation against the November chill. Yet, he was matting faster than a tumbleweed in a windstorm, and his “natural look” had started leaning more toward “neglected drifter” than “beloved pet.” Don’t worry. Oliver spends 99% of time sleeping inside these days.
This evening, he’ll be a smooth-coated dachshund instead of his wire-haired self. Once I felt so sorry for him that I knitted him a sweater. lovingly made just for him. He kept it on just long enough to get a picture while glaring like I’d insulted his manhood.
Last week, I decided it was time for my own seasonal tune-up with a minor trim of my own. Nothing fancy. Just the ends and bangs. In and out, right? Wrong. Tomorrow, I’ll create my own $85 bill, leaving with my hair smelling vaguely of lavender mist, and bangs that will likely drive me nuts for the next two weeks.
When did this happen? When did the cost of human and canine beauty become interchangeable? Somewhere out there, an economist is shaking their head and muttering about inflation, while a hairstylist and dog groomer are toasting to early retirement.
Still experiencing a little shock, I can’t help remember 35 years of $40 haircuts with Sweet Deb, who pampered me beyond the norm. She’d make me tea, ask about the kids, and somehow send me out the door feeling like a movie star instead of a mop head. Oh, how I miss those days, when a haircut didn’t require a small loan, and you left with more gossip than guilt.
Now, let’s be fair. Both stylists deserve credit. My hair will be sleek and shiny and Oliver will look like a show dog. We’ll both leave with complimentary treats, his a biscuit and mine a peppermint. Still, I can’t help but think I could’ve bought a small leaf blower for the same price while trimming both of us at home.
Here’s to the groomers, stylists, and brave souls everywhere who hold the scissors that keep us and our dogs looking civilized. May your tips be generous, your blow dryers quiet, and your fall haircuts worth every penny.
