Pookie

The groomer clears her throat. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m going to have to cancel your appointment.”

The older woman looks to the groomer, disgusted. “Oh, come now. Are you not a grooming salon for pets?” she huffs.

“Yes, we are.” The groomer tries to peek inside the kennel. “But whatever you have in there tried to bite me. Unless you have a means to calm down ‘Pookie,’ I can’t service them.”

The woman scoffs, rolling her eyes. “All you groomers are the same, judging a book by its cover before you even get a chance to get to know your clients. It’s incredibly rude.”

The groomer sighs. “Ma’am, I’m not being prejudiced. I’m looking out for me and my coworkers’ safety.”

“You’ll be just fine! Isn’t that right, Pookie?” the woman coos inside the kennel. “In fact, let me take him out for you to see just how sweet he is.”

“Ma’am, wait!” the groomer yells. She tries to stop the owner from opening the kennel door, but it was too late.