Groomed
Marvin was sprawled out in bed enjoying a well-earned rest. He had been working relentlessly at the Paris Dog Show, washing, clipping and grooming dogs, but today was his day off. One of his subordinates would oversee the day’s grooming. Just as he was thinking about making himself a decaf cappuccino, his phone rang. Grudgingly, he answered it. It was the dog show.
“An emergency, you say?” he asked, sitting upright in bed. “Alright, keep your pants on. I’ll be there in half an hour.” And with that he hung up. “God damn it,” he mumbled as he hauled himself out of bed and got dressed
When Marvin arrived at the dog show, it was in a state of chaos. Dogs were barking and people were running to and fro, appearing to be busy but not really engaged in any form of work. His subordinate rushed up to him.
“Alright, so what’s this emergency?” Marvin demanded.
“It’s Francesco, Mr. Cranford,” she replied, flustered.
“Francesco?” replied Marvin. “Why wasn’t I called in sooner?”
She directed Marvin towards Francesco, a large male French poodle and the star of the show. Marvin gasped when he saw the dog. He had been half-clipped and rather badly at that.
“Can you fix it?” asked the subordinate. Marvin didn’t answer. He paced around Francesco in silence, with a stern expression. Finally, he looked at the subordinate. “I’m a dog groomer, not a miracle worker,” he said. “But this is asking a lot.”
Marvin rolled up sleeves and got to work. “Clippers.” He ordered. The subordinate passed the clippers and Marvin began shaving Francesco’s hindquarters. He remained calm as the dog’s fur fell to the floor.
“That’s rather a lot, isn’t it?” asked the subordinate, nervously.
“I know what I’m doing,” replied Marvin. “Blow dryer,” he said. The subordinate didn’t move. She was transfixed on Francesco. Marvin turned to her. “Blow dryer! Now!” he shouted. With a shudder the subordinate looked around her and, finding the blow dryer, passed it to Marvin.
“I need more cord here!” said Marvin. “Quickly, now!” The subordinate untangled the cord and stepped next to Marvin.
“I think that’s enough now, Mr. Cranford,” she said, with a concerned expression on her face.
“You just keep your trap shut and leave the grooming to me,” stated Marvin, not looking up from his work.
“Stop! You’ve done enough!” shouted the subordinate, and she moved towards the power point.
“Somebody stop her!” Marvin exclaimed. The subordinate fumbled with the power cord, trying to pull it from the socket. “She’s going to pull the plug! Stop her now!” shouted Marvin, still shaving the dog. Two men ran up to the subordinate and, grabbing both of her arms, dragged her away from the power point.
“Get her out of here!” demanded Marvin. As the two men hauled her away, kicking and fighting, she cried out, “You’re crazy, Marvin!” Marvin paused for a moment to regain his composure, then he continued with his work.
Finally, he turned off the clippers, placed them gently on the table and gave a sigh of relief. Turning around to face the other groomers and attendants, he declared, “Francesco is now ready!” He was greeted by a round of applause and handshakes. “And that’s why I’m the best,” he said to himself quietly, as he headed towards the door.
