Few things in every day life fuel me more than being shamed for stuff I have little control over. Like I would go to the hairdresser (this has happened numerous times since I live here) and I would have to endure comments about how “difficult” or “unmanageable” my hair is and how I should do [X]. [X], of course, being shit I am fully aware of (like relaxing my hair with chemicals, just to use one such example) but I have no interest in or, I have tried but disliked the results.

Today, my dog, MY DOG, OF ALL CREATURES! was subjected to this shaming. Or perhaps I should rephrase it: I was shamed for not doing my best to improve her “terrible hair”. The thing is, a couple of times a year, my dog, with whom I do share the wild, difficult hair situation, needs a thorough haircut. The last time I attempted to do so myself, I had strangers stop me in the street asking what kind of skin disease she suffered (she doesn’t; it appeared she did because of the horrendous way in which I had butchered her hair with ill sharpened scissors). So, since dog grooming is obviously not my forte and I had found a groomer that is reasonably priced, I always take her bi-annually or so. Today, there was a different woman at the counter (the groomer is still the same, just her assistant was different) who had THE NERVE TO SHAME ME FOR THE DOG’S BAD HAIR.

I swear I was tempted to login to Tumblr, find an appropriate GIF to express my rage and just show it to her. Instead, I gave her an intense side eye and they did not get a tip.

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