Brushing day

OMG, you guys. The shedding around here has been out of control. It always happens this time of year, yet somehow I always manage to be completely surprised and appalled. Before we had Sascha, I used to complain about Plato's shedding. Let me tell you - it is just a drop in the bucket when compared to the undercoat-producing-machine that is Sascha. Brushing, around here, is not a pleasant event and is not to be taken lightly.

Well, it is pleasant for about 2 minutes until the dogs decide "Well! That's enough of THAT!" when we've really only scratched the surface.

This picture was obviously taken during the two minute period. Plato is like "Ooh yeah. More of that please." and the chunky monkey desperately wants it to be her turn.

Then it is her turn for a while and Plato hovers and breathes hot dog breath down Jeff's neck.

Sometimes, there is a sneak attack intending to usurp the enemy's position as brush-ee.

After the two minutes of pleasure are up, Plato relaxes into regal resignation (his usual state, to be honest).

Sascha, on the other hand, turns into a whiny little baby with teeth - wriggling to escape Jeff, nipping the brush and Jeff with equal malice, and yelping as if the thing that was so pleasurable not so long ago is now causing her physical pain.

The Sascha death stare. She's all "my previous abusive owner NEVER brushed me this much. I want to go back."

Anyway, this is the result of all the terrible brushing. Excuse me while I get started on the little dog hair filled pillows you all will be getting for Christmas!