Showing posts with label leo. mohawk haircuts. coldsore.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label leo. mohawk haircuts. coldsore.. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 19

Leo ...the Reverse Skinhead

Well, what a shock we got, when we went to collect our little Leo. He was almost completely bald! No tail feathers at all. And he acted almost guilty, as if he was ashamed of his nakedness. The groomer had a tough old time trying to complete his feet. I bear the scars from his frantic scrabbling as we tried to hold him still, so she could finish off his paws. Here he is on our bed, with one of his beloved soft toys. He was very subdued when he came home, yesterday. He lay next to me for a time on the sofa, & even let me cover him with a blanket.

He spent the whole night on our bed, & I suppose he was a bit cold with all his woolly coat gone.

Here he is, out in the sun this morning, waiting for Gom to come out. He sits beside him while he eats his brekky in the sun.
As you can see, he looks a very reduced hound! And we can see the legacy of his little black poodle mother, in the dark spots on his skin. Hopefully, as his wool grows back, he will let me brush him, & keep him from becoming so tangled.
And this was his sister yesterday, missing him & his boisterous ways.

When our kids were young, we used to go for evening strolls into the heart of the city, since we lived on the edge of the city centre. I remember seeing young lads with mohawk haircuts, & some of them had those huge spikes they used to glue into peaks.
Our son was fascinated, & could not take his eyes off these young men. I told him, "If you ever come home with a mohawk I will cry!" He was only about 10 then.
Well, you guessed it, some years later, when he went off flatting with his girlfriend, he came home one weekend, complete with mohawk haircut. I admit, I was quite appalled, but I didn't cry. I didn't really like it, but felt it was not a crime compared to what some young chaps were doing.
Then, the next weekend he came home, he had attempted to dye it, so it was black, with bleached sides, which had turned green & blue. Very peculiar. We took our daughter to the Airport, she was 'leaving home' for her first time. Going to another country. I was full of tears, & trepidation.
Our son came to farewell his sister, complete with multicoloured, multilevelled hair. Little boys stared in fascination, much the same way he had done when he was young. Gom put his arm around his shoulder, & said "Never mind Son. You may look funny, but I still love you!"
He was teased mercilessly at his work, apparently, & an elderly woman who worked in the office, asked what on earth his parents thought about his hair. He, being cheeky & flippant, replied his mother thought it lovely, & she had got a mohawk too!
We had occasion to take a paper to his work, & I wondered why this woman had rushed out of the office, & blatantly stared at me! She couldn't believe we were such a normal, conventional looking couple.
I always did try to encourage my children to be 'their own person', and not blindly follow the herd. Of course, I had not envisioned mohawks to be in the 'think for yourself' range of what they might choose to do. Nor had I thought about them dying their hair... well not the sons anyway.
Those phases have all long passed, & I recently asked SB if he was glad he had got his mohawk when he was young. He told me wasn't & couldn't believe he had been so stupid! I told him not to regret it, because if he hadn't he might have spent the rest of his life wishing he had! He also could not quite believe he had dyed his hair, I think.
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I have a large cold sore on my lower lip. It is the same site it always develops. I always get miserable & feel most unwell, when I get a breakout. I have not had one for a few years now, so that may explain why I felt so tired. I hadn't realised it was developing, so missed the crucial first hours with the Zovirax.
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Gom is fussing about in the kitchen, so I might go away & just rest. With my one skin bodied hound, & one shaggy little girl, who will have to have her wool cut shortly.
Bob Dylan, Beyond the Horizon.