by Anjie Coates
Photo by Anjie Coates
Photo by Anjie Coates
ayla is a Beagle mix I’ve groomed for her entire life, and she is known at the salon as being the happiest dog ever born.
“Hey, babe. You ready for your finish?” I ask as I kneel before her crate and open the door.
Layla: “I’m ready! Catch me!” And she bounds into my lap.
“Oof! Easy on the jump there, kid. I’m not as young as I used to be,” I tell her.
Layla gives me a flurry of kisses and head bonks as I carry her to the table.
“If only you were a happy dog,” I say sarcastically.
Layla: “I am happy! I love my spa day! I love you! I love my bath! I love my finish!”
Next I file her nails and try to avoid her tail in my face as it whips from side to side.
“You are probably the only dog that loves nail trims this much. You know that?” I ask.
Layla: “You’re touching me and that means you love me!”
“Yes, I do,” I reply as I kiss her head.
Layla’s tail thumps in time to the Christmas music, and I am once again thankful for pool noodles covering the overhead bar on my table lest she bruises it.
“Are you excited for Christmas?” I ask.
Layla: “I am! The Christmas tree is up! It’s so pretty! I love the Christmas tree.”
“I’m going to guess there are very few ornaments at the bottom of the tree,” I say.
Layla: “How did you know!?!”
I look at the ever-wagging tail and grin, “Just a guess…”
Layla: “I hope I get a new toy.”
“I’m going to bet a good girl like you will get a new toy,” I say.
Layla hops up onto my chest and give me three quick kisses.
“Thank you. You need to stay on the table though, hun,” I tell her.
She sits back down and continues to wag, despite sitting on half her tail.
“You are just fur-covered joy. I’ve never seen you have a bad day in all these years,” I say.
Layla grins and leans against my stomach as I brush down her back with the boar bristle brush.
“Well, what do you say we get your Christmas picture taken?” I ask.
Layla: “Yay!”
Layla hops as I lift her to carry her to the picture room with her tail beating loudly against my smock sleeve.
“OK, so now you have to pick a costume. You want to be an elf?” I ask.
Layla: “Did that last year.”
“Right. How about a Christmas tree?” I ask.
Layla: “Yes! I love that!”
I put her costume on and she wags wildly as I get it situated.
“Ok, lemme see that sweet face,” I say.
Layla does her best to pose despite her entire back end wiggling.
“Gorgeous!” I tell her and hand her treat, but she doesn’t want it.
Layla: “How about some Christmas hugs and kisses instead?”
And I reply,


