While nail trimming is something I am religious about, I more than easily admit other grooming tasks not so much. Since Tom’s recent dental extraction for a broken molar, I have become significantly more consistent with teeth brushing. But tasks like brushing, yea no. I purposefully keep a couple of dog brushes on a table next to our couch so that when the mood strikes me I can instantly comply as I know if I had to get up and go rummaging in the closet brushing would happen even less.
So yesterday both dogs got a good brushing. Tom adores being brushed. The moment he sees the brush in my hand he comes over “Me! Me! Me!” and he will stand there until the cows come home loving every stroke.
Zora is less thrilled about brushing, but at this stage of her life she has come to see its purpose. When she was a puppy, she disliked brushing a lot. Then she went through her first coat shed in the middle of the summer heat. When I brushed out that under coat she felt so much better and as a result become a brushing convert. She sees its use. So she sat on the couch tolerating as I pulled a small corgi out of her coat.
For Zora especially, after she copes with the brushing we go outside and play one of her favorite games, kick the ball. Tom he finds brushing highly self rewarding, and once we are outside all he wants is for me to keep petting him, scritching him and raking my fingers through his coat.