Bad Hair Days

Hi! Coraline here, and I'm not very happy. I'm going to tell you why.

Look at me! Do I look happy to you?!

I'm usually a pretty happy girl. And when Aunty Beccs comes over, why, I'm usually over the moon!

Pure delight! I love Aunty Beccs!

But not today. Today and I am unhappy, and I'll tell you why.

I don't shed much. I'm a good girl, and respectful of my Mum's house, and other people's houses and vehicles when I go visit (though, if I'm really excited, I might shed a bit when I go say hi to someone I haven't seen in a while, like Aunty Beccs who doesn't visit me enough). I like to keep my hair where it belongs, which is on my body, thank-you-very-much.

But. When the weather changes, for good or ill, something horrible happens. It's like puberty except it happens a few times a year.

I blow  my coat.

Now, Uncle Dan, I know what you're thinking and let's not go there.

It means that I lose a layer of fur so a new one can grow in. It "blows" away on the wind.

It is super traumatising! I look like ... like ... unspeakable. I look unspeakably bad. I don't want to go out in public. I barely even want to chew things in the basement.

The only relief is to lose that hair. But there's no easy way to do that!

UNLESS YOU ARE EVIL.

This is why I am unhappy.

Aunty Beccs came over, took one look at my hideous appearance, and decided that she and Mum should give me a brushing.

A BRUSHING.

THE WORST.

Wrenching my hairs out by the root? Tossing them into the ether? Parts of me, just gone? Extirpated before their time?

It's appalling! Horrible!

THEY THOUGHT IT WAS GREAT FUN.

Here's a shot of me hanging my head in shame.

"Please don't take my picture, I look like I was dredged up from the bottom of the East River. Oh, okay, you're going to do what you want. Thanks Aunty Beccs.
You're the BEST."

Here's one of me trying to escape, but Mum's got me trapped by the collar. Instead of helping me, Aunty Beccs decides to take a picture.

I hate you.

What's this? Oh, I guess we have a few shots of the hair they tore from my delicate shiba flesh.

That was about the size of my head.

Here's a square metre or so of my fur.

This next one is great. This is me gasping for air next to Dad and Sam, right before they gave me up to the Evil Women.

We cool right? WRONG!

For perspective on this next one, Aunty Becc's foot is FRICKING HUGE. SHE IS A MONSTER IN EVERY WAY!

So you know what?

Screw you guys. I'm having a grown-up drink.

CORALINE OUT!