It’s like taking a page out of the Home Alone movies. The evil puppy groomer pulls up the driveway. The innocent children—in this case, Lily and Maya—run to the front door to protect their home. Once they recognize the perpetrator, Lily resigns herself to her fate. The door opens, and Maya sees her opportunity. She runs.
The unsuspecting mother (me) tries to block her by squeezing against the wall before she can get away. But then—she pees. Oh no! I grab for her tail, but she eludes me. The next thing you know, I slip, my feet go flying, and I land on my butt. In my attempt to save myself, I put my hand down, but my thumb lands awkwardly, spread away from my fingers.
The poor groomer watches in shock as I sit there on the floor. She asks, “Are you okay?” In my mind, I want to respond, Do I look okay?
Yes, my hand is throbbing in pain. My butt hurts. My knees hurt. Everything hurts. But most of all, my pride hurts. Let’s just say it was extremely embarrassing.
After two minutes of sitting on the floor, I look up, and there’s Maya on the upstairs landing, watching me. I call to her to come down, but she refuses, anxiously looking at me. Slowly and steadily, I get myself off the floor. Saying it took me 30 seconds would be generous—it probably took a bit longer.
I make my way upstairs to get our frightened puppy. Now, I’m not sure why she’s so scared—this is a lovely groomer. Our previous groomer used to upset Lily, but she willingly goes to this one. Since Lily is the protector of the group, I assume Maya just doesn’t like being groomed.
As I approach Maya, she bolts for the other stairs. I chase her down and into the kitchen she goes. After two rounds of chasing her around the kitchen island, she makes a beeline for the garage. Realizing it’s a dead end; she quickly pivots and heads up the back stairs. That’s where I finally caught her.
Maya is a healthy puppy, to say the least. When they labeled her a “mini” Goldendoodle, there must have been some false advertising. At a solid 35 pounds, she’s our little baby. I carried her back to the groomer and handed her over, my pride completely shattered.
Immediately, I can tell I’ve injured my wrist. I close the door, grab Clorox wipes, and clean up the pee. Then, realizing something is definitely wrong, I ice my hand and put it in a splint.
The puppies are gone for an hour, giving me time to compose myself (after shedding a few tears of pain—yes, I was in full drama queen mode). I wrap my wrist in a bandage and try to keep it still, but the throbbing continues. The worst part? It’s my right hand, so typing emails has become a struggle.
When the girls return, the groomer gifts them Christmas toys—Maya gets the naughty green bone, and Lily gets the nice red bone 😊. As soon as the door shuts, I head to urgent care.
Two and a half hours later, I walked home with the news: a small chip in the bone. Entering the garage, I’m greeted by Maya, excited as ever to see me.
Now, as I wait to call the orthopedist to schedule an appointment before our vacation next week, I’m reflecting: What’s the silver lining in all this?
Yes, it felt like a Home Alone scene, and I can smile about it now. Was it painful? Absolutely. Will I have to wear a cast? Maybe. But it could have been worse. And now, the men in my life will have to dote on me while I heal—there’s the silver lining! It’s all about perspective. Humor can be found even in the most humiliating situations.
Sharing this with all of you adds a bit of levity to the experience. I’ll be fine, and I always try to find the lesson in everything. If I knew Maya didn’t enjoy her groomer and I was alone at home, I should’ve had her on a leash before opening the door. Lesson learned—a painful one—but still, a lesson.
Amid all the chaos of the holidays, I hope our little escapade brings a smile to your face. Wishing you all a very happy holiday season!
