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By Eilzabeth M. Jarrell
I flew half way across the country to get my latest Australian Shepherd puppy, Sophia Maria. The morning before we flew home, her breeder calmly and casually both clipped and dremmeled her nails. Sophia Maria hardly even noticed. This was great news as I routinely cut nails and groom once a week. Sophia Maria was then eight weeks old. All was well and good in terms of clipping Sophia Maria’s nails until she was around four months old. One week she was fine. The following week, when she turned four months old, she became almost impossible about having her nails clipped. Nothing happened; she just decided that she had a thing about having her nails clipped. She is perfectly fine with being combed, brushed, trimmed, and generally beautified. Just do not touch her toes. The first time I tried to cut Sophia Maria’s nails after her change in attitude, she hyperventilated. She became hysterical. She thrashed. She twisted. She just about expired. My sweet puppy morphed into a creature possessed by demons. Her head all but spun around, Exorcist fashion. I contemplated conducting an exorcism. I immediately brought in reinforcements for the next nail cutting session. A friend who is the best behaviorist around came over. She watched me struggle to cut Sophia Maria’s nails without much success. Then she tried also without great progress. Together we managed to trim Sophia Maria’s nails being very careful not to quick her so that she would not bleed and have a bad experience. The end result was that Sophia Maria ended up with nails that were entirely too long and both my friend and I were physically and mentally exhausted. I suspect Sophia Maria was too. Over the next few weeks, I contacted all the behaviorists I knew soliciting their help. I tried everything to change the picture in Sophia Maria’s mind. Sometimes I started with her back feet. Other times I began on the reverse side. I tried working with her on the sofa. Next I wrestled with her on the floor. I even bought a new grooming table complete with two arms and two nooses. In desperation, I bought valerian root-based relaxation pills which, incidentally, did help somewhat. Her breeder said to clip quickly, quietly, and without making eye contact. It is very hard to do all that when wrestling a hysterical, and quite strong, puppy. Nothing helped. Indeed, Sophia Maria was getting even more upset if such were possible. What should have been a routine, five minute nail cutting session became a horrid, two hour ordeal. Worse, in my attempts not to quick her nails, Sophia Maria’s nails were quickly growing into powerful daggers. I bravely called my obedience mentor, who is one of the very best in the entire country. I confessed that I was not much of a trainer because I could barely trim my puppy’s toe nails. She laughed and then made a confession of her own. Although she can put back to back High In Trials on one of her dogs, she has to use an emery board for hours upon hours to manually file his nails. She cannot clip his nails either. She suggested trying a dremmel. I harbor suspicions about anything mechanical. Naturally I did not even own a dremmel. I continued on with the clippers. After one especially difficult and distressing two hour nail cutting ordeal, I was black and blue and scratched by Sophia Maria’s thrashing back legs. She is only 35 pounds, but she is pure muscle. In terms of strength, I am no match for her. She became so bad that she positively panicked when I so much as touched her precious toes even when the nail clippers were not anywhere in sight. After relating the disaster of the latest nail cutting session to another good friend, she told me to bring Sophia Maria to her house. She was going to introduce both Sophia Maria and me to the joys of dremmeling. I had grave doubts. If Sophia Maria became a ballistic, hyperventilating mess with a mere nail clipper, surely she would end up with a puppy heart attack with a dremmel. I could not have been more incorrect. My friend first gave Sophia Maria a spoonful of peanut butter, one of Sophia Maria’s most favorite treats. Then we all dutifully trooped into her basement grooming area. She put Sophia Maria on the grooming table with one noose. She fed her more peanut butter. She turned on the dremmel. Still more peanut butter. She casually picked up on foot, quickly dremmeled, and fed Sophia Maria more peanut butter. The few times that Sophia Maria reared or otherwise misbehaved, my friend calmly but firmly stopped her with a mere no. It only took five minutes and half a jar of peanut butter to dremmel all of Sophia Maria’s nails. Full of hope, I ordered the most powerful dremmel known to mankind. NASA would be proud to own such a tool. I was bound and determined to make dremmeling a success. If not, I would be out of options. I gave Sophia Maria a relaxation pill. I took one myself. An hour later, I put her on the grooming table with one arm. We were in a room never before used to cut her nails. I fed her a spoonful of peanut butter. Then I turned on the dremmel and picked up one foot. Sophia Maria did not care. In fact, Sophia Maria was very busy putting her entire face into the open jar of peanut butter which I had inadvertently left on top of the grooming table under her head. I was able to dremmel all 16 of her nails quickly, quietly, and without incident. It was a miracle! No matter that peanut butter was all over Sophia Maria’s face, my hands, the new grooming table, my clothes, and even the floor. What did I care that I detest even the smell of peanut butter. A sticky situation is far preferable to one requiring an exorcism. There is a saying among dog trainers; namely, whatever it takes. To trim Sophia Maria’s nails, all it took was a dremmel and a jar of peanut butter.
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