grooming, i love to be groomed. Ever since i was a puppy my mum used to put me on the table and pretend we were at the doctors (god, that sounds all wrong!!), she said she wanted me to get used to being on the table because all the other male dogs she had had went crazy at the doctors and they had to be wrestled to the ground before anyone could look at them. This time, she said she couldn’t go through all that again, so she started me off young. Whilst i was on the table she got me used to being groomed and inspected, I don’t go on the table anymore because I am too big and I weight 35 kilos, so now we just do it outside.
Being a Drathaar means that i have what apparently are called furnishings, i don’t know what that means but it has something to do with hair, mum likes to tidy me up and calls me her little pony, i don’t know what that is either, but that’s what she calls me. My eyebrows are long and blonde
and my beard is a constant source of amusement for everyone. My dad loves it and says it is one of my best features…..another man in the village hates it, and another man in the village calls me “beard”, actually i think he calls me that because he can’t say my name. Other than my mum and dad’s friends, no-one can say my name, which is probably why they called me Woody, they don’t want people to call me to them or go with them, quite clever really.
Mum say’s it’s like having a giant sponge attached to my chin which i can drip everywhere, she’s probably right.
Anyway, the thing about my beard is that it gets all sorts of things stuck in it, like food, but also grasses and my favourite thing, mud that the wild boar have been in, that way i smell like them and they don’t know when i am coming and i can chase them…….
ourlifehandmade 