The Deed is Done...Mostly

Today, Ryan and I groomed Lucky. We did it without drugging him. I straddled him, and held his paws with my knees while he screamed like he was being murdered and slung slobber all over the place. Ryan did most of the cutting. Finally, there are no dreadlocks on the dog's penis, underbelly, or anywhere else on his body. He used to have dreads on all of his legs, between his eyes, under his chin, on his neck, on his rear end, and covering the end of his... well, you know, I already said the word once, for Pete's sake. We used electric clippers for most of his back, belly and thighs.
We did let him run outside about half-way through, where he promptly vomited all over the deck. What a drama queen!
The worst, most disgusting part was cutting the dried-into-locks-shit from his backside. We never did figure out a way to cut the beard or the hairs on his snout, but we are devising a plan for that!
So here we are, Ryan and I, victorious and covered in dog hair, spit and probably some other bodily fluids that I would rather not think about. (Including some of my own blood, but not Lucky's...)
We bonded over this fiasco. We made a great team. Our muscles are in spasms, and we're shaking a bit from the exertion, but we won the battle! (You know, the battle to NOT have to take the damn dog to a groomer's and pay out the wazoo to have him put UNDER in order to be groomed. Yeah, that battle.)