Barnaby the Beagle was having a crisis. A fluffy, shedding, can’t-see-where-he’s-going crisis. His owner, Mrs. Higgins, decided enough was enough. “Barnaby,” she declared, brandishing a dog brush that looked more like a torture device, “We’re going to the vet! You need a haircut!”
Barnaby whimpered. He didn’t fear the vet, Dr. Emily, who always gave him a sneaky biscuit, but the idea of a haircut filled him with profound dread. He pictured himself shaved bare, looking like a particularly sad, plucked chicken.
At the clinic, Dr. Emily greeted them with a smile. “So, Barnaby needs a trim? Let’s see what we can do.” She ushered him into the grooming area, a room filled with strange-looking clippers and brushes. Barnaby eyed them nervously.
“Just a little off the top,” Mrs. Higgins instructed. “He can barely see!”
Dr. Emily winked. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Higgins. We’ll make him look like a handsome movie star!”
An hour later, Mrs. Higgins returned, expecting to see a slightly more streamlined Barnaby. What she found was…well, unexpected. Barnaby was standing proudly, sporting a magnificent bouffant, reminiscent of a 1950s beauty queen. His ears were styled into perfect curls, and his tail had been painstakingly sculpted into a feathery plume.
Mrs. Higgins stared, speechless. “Emily,” she finally managed, “What… what have you done?”
Dr. Emily beamed. “He said he wanted to look like a movie star! Turns out, Barnaby was very specific. He wanted to look like Dolly Parton. And honestly,” she added, patting Barnaby’s impressive ‘do’, “He pulls it off surprisingly well.”
