WAGGING TALES FROM PUNTA BANDA by Carol Roper
Muriel The Dog Groomer
In a hamlet at the tip of Ensenada Bay, Muriel stood bent over a dog on her grooming table on the patio that ran the length of the beach house. The Lhapso Apso had bitten two previous groomers and Muriel was taking no chances. Six feet tall, sinewy and slender with blazing white hair she held the dog against her as she maneuvered the clippers skillfully over and between his hind legs.
“Rowdy looks like’s he’s in heaven,” said Julie, the dog’s owner who sat on a nearby lounge, one hand wrapped around a half-full wine glass, while the fingers on her other hand scrolled her smartphone.
“He had a few knots.” Muriel understated. It had taken an hour to work the knots free without hurting the dog.
“I didn’t have time this week, sorry. I’ve been slammed. I thought I would have more time with Jake out of town, but it’s been the opposite, “she said merrily. “My friends don’t want me to be lonely.” Julie’s delicate features and blonde hair were shielded by an orange baseball cap emblazoned with the words “I love Punta Banda.” The color matched her orange shirt and Capri pants.
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