So, last summer, while sitting on top of the old dog in a vigorous struggle to trim his toenails, I got jostled and cut one a tiny little bit too close, not enough for him to shriek and howl, but enough for him to make a startled noise and push me off and walk away. Bleeding. Just a little. But before I could grab a damp towel and some cleanser, he walked from the living room into and through the kitchen, circled the dining room table, and then came back out to greet me with my towel in the living room again. Leaving a little trail of bloody doggie footprints everywhere, which I had to mop up after cleaning his toenail which almost immediately stopped bleeding once he stopped walking on it.
So now, the dog doesn’t trust me with any sharp objects. His hair grows long if you don’t keep it trimmed, and right now you can’t even see his hideous long toenails because there is dog fur covering them. The other day, the Boyfriend sits down on the floor and the old dog happily lets him trim his toenails with the dog toenail clipper, but I realized his task was still difficult, even with the old dog cooperating, because he had to push back the long foot fur in order to even see the grossly long toenails.
Tonight, the old dog seemed in a fairly relaxed mood, so I ran upstairs and got the haircut scissors and sat down beside the old dog and he surprised me by letting me trim the hair neatly around one of his back feet. The front feet were not too awful, so I tried to get around to the other back foot and the dog realizes I have scissors in my hands and will have not very much to do with it. I got in a few good hacks, and you can see his feet again, but there was not much styling happening.
So I give up and take the scissors back upstairs and when I come back down the dog is happily splayed at the bottom of the stairs on his back with his feet in the air, basically doing his little doggie superiority dance, and showing the Boyfriend once again that yes, the dog is even smarter than I am when he wants to be.