Every time the knots build up, we get the scissors out and trim them off. It's a two-man job, or at least it was until Rhoda got the hang on handling him alone and took it on herself to shear the dog.
Now that she's left, it's up to us again. Danny didn't know that, which is why when I approached him with the scissors in hand, he sat up all eager to play. I didn't want to make it a chore for him so I patted him and gave him a bit of a massage before turning him on his back. Even then, he thought I was going to give him a belly rub. Silly dog.
To his credit, he held still even when he saw the scissors coming. However, the first snip sent him wriggling. I tried another spot nearer his flank, hoping it would be less sensitive, but Danny was on to me now. He lept to his feet and did his best to evade all attempts to turn him on his back again. At one point, his back paw made contact with my ribs while his front paw dug into my thigh as he tried to stop the flip. If I wasn't struggling so hard, I would have been quite impressed with his doggie gymnastics.
Eventually, I had to call in reinforcements (aka hubby). He took over the scissors while I held on to Danny. It took about 10 minutes to get most of the knots out - both the little ones and the littles ones that had combined into big ones.
When it was all over, I released him and gave him a treat. He crunched it up right away and then promptly stalked off to sulk.
"Why do you do mean things to me?"
Yeah, that's right. Take my bribe but still refuse to be friends. Brilliant, dog.
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