Princess

"Well, look what the cat dragged in!"

"Christ! That's all I'd need, a freakin' cat. I just got done wrestling with a hyperactive black standard poodle that had enough fleas to start a couple of circuses, and then barfed while I was trying to trim around his eyes. The damn thing outweighed me and he was absopositivlutly taller than I am! If he tried to chase a goddam cat he would have ripped the leash out of the ceiling and taken the entire building with him as he tried to catch it!"

"Bad day, eh, Jenny?"

"Bad day. Bad week. Bad month. Bad effin' year! The stinking dog tried to take my umbrella with him when I kicked him out and the son-of-a-bitch owner didn't even tip me! I got dog barf all over my shoes. Why the hell did I ever become a dog groomer?"

"Because you couldn't find anything else when you transitioned?"

"Too bloody right! Where the hell is my Prince Charming? Doesn't he know I've been waiting ages for him? He was supposed to show up and take me away from all this."

"Men! You just can't rely on them!"

"Damn right! I used to be one, so I know. All I want is to be treated royally and wear fancy ball gowns and drink champagne out of a glass slipper that fits my foot after midnight."

"Sorry I can't supply a prince, but I might be able to shake up a sheikh. Interested?"

"Suspicious. You may be a good boss, but when you grin like that I trust you as far as my least favorite poodle could drag you with your feet tangled in his leash."

"Seriously, Jenny. New guy in town from somewhere in the Middle East. Ya know, white robes, camels, dancing girls, that sort of thing?"

"You don't expect me to wear some jeweled bra and shake my ass while I clip his dog, do you?"

"Not until you get your bottom work done, at least. The honkers wouldn't look bad in a jeweled bra, though."

"Fat chance!"

"Actually it is a fat chance. The dude will pay two hundred smackers and have his chauffeur pick you up in his limo if you go to his place and clip his dog."

"No shit!"

"Considering your luck with stuff emerging from dogs, I wouldn't want to guarantee anything."

"Two hundred, huh? I suppose he has a Saint Bernard. There has to be a catch."

"It's a poodle. A toy poodle."

"I still don't trust you, but I need the cash. I'll do it."

"The limo will be here at ten tomorrow morning."

"Whoah! That's some spread. How does he keep palm trees alive over the winter?"

"I'm afraid I can't say, I've only been here for a few weeks and the Master is not a talkative man."

"I suppose his money talks for him."

"And I'm happy to listen, The pay is good and the work is easy. I just keep my mouth shut and do what I'm told."

"A wise man. Your job has got to be easier than grooming dogs for a living."

"I'm a cat man, myself. Cats are too smart to let people near them with pointy objects."

"And they have ten pointy objects of their very own. Dogs are hard enough to groom, thank you."

"Here you are, the servant's entrance. It should be the employee entrance, but he Master is a bit eccentric and set in his ways. Me, I don't care if I'm a servant or an employee as long as I get a check on Fridays."

"Like I said, a wise man."

"Just push the button and someone will let you in."

A flunkey answered the door, a flunkey in an outlandish Middle-Eastern costume. The man, whose ancestors obviously came from somewhere far from the desert kingdoms, looked rather embarrassed. The chauffeur seemed to have it right about the Master being eccentric.

"You must be the dog groomer?"

"That's me. I'm ready whenever the dog is ready."

"Come this way. I think you would be best in the workroom as there is a bench and the fur will be easy to clean up. I understand a ceiling hook will be helpful, and that can be done easily in the workroom."

"Excellent."

"Come with me and I'll introduce you to Ghiyath. That's Arabic for 'protector'. A silly name for an six pound toy poodle, but the Mistress has her fancies."

"Not as silly as some I've encountered. People seem to name their animals with no thought to reality."

As he opened a door a fast-moving ball of fluff came rocketing toward them at a speed just short of that of light. It definitely broke the sound barrier; and our heroine was wishing she had a barrier to the sound. After several orbits, the ball of fluff slowed sufficiently to be petted.

"Now aren't you a sweet little thing." Jenny extended her hand.

She was answered by a high-pitched growl.

"All right, you're a bad tempered little dust mop." she replied in the tones of one trained to gain the confidence of a dog. It's not what you say but how you say it.

"Right this way, please," said the flunkey.

The room looked like a freakin' bazaar - crammed to the ceiling with rugs, lamps, beads, tents, and junk of every description.

"Damn, wouldn't it be nice to have so much money you can just put stuff like his in the garage and never miss it?"

"The Master does tend to collect things with abandon. Will this do?"

"Quite well. Now all I have to do is convince whats-his-name to let me pick him up and get started."

"Ghiyath, come!"

The dog just looked at him with big (relative to his body) brown eyes.

"Ghiyath, now!"

The dog came over and the flunkey put him on the bench, where Jenny attached a restraint to the hook.

"I'll leave you to your work and return in about a half an hour?"

"That should be enough time. Thank you for your help."

If Jenny thought yesterday's big dog was a pain, this little bugger was completely non-cooperative. He wouldn't stand still, twitching and itching and who-knows-what-else. After fifteen minutes of effort, she let her guard down and the little bugger nailed her in the left hand. Cursing, she jumped back and tripped, falling and upsetting a table full of shiny junk, which proceeded to rain down on her as she lay on the floor. The dog started barking and something cold and heavy managed to land in her cleavage.

And she thought yesterday had been bad! Flailing around to find purchase to right herself, her hand encountered a lamp.

"Jesus, a blasted Aladdin's lamp. Just what I damn well need!"

She cocked her arm to toss the thing away when the absurdity of the situation hit her. 'What the hell?' she thought and rubbed the lamp. She was rewarded by a cloud of smoke.

"Oh great, now I'm going to burn the place down. Can anything else go wrong?" she cried to no one in particular.

"Ah, madam," and ethereal voice replied. "Perhaps you shouldn't ask such far-reaching questions."

"Jesus Christ! Not a freakin' Genie!"

"Please, madam. I have no connection whatever to your Christian gods."

"Neither do I. I don't believe this!"

"But it's true. I'm sure you know the routine: you make a wish and I grant it, but be sure of what you want."

"All right, buster. I want to be treated like the freaking Princess that I am."

"Granted!"

Jenny returned to consciousness feeling very strange. The world seemed to be fuzzy and dim, but she was far too aware of the perfume on the body near her. Way too much perfume! She appeared to be curled up on something warm and soft, but it was moving. What the heck? Suddenly she was lifted, hands clutching under her armpits and she found herself staring nose to nose with a woman with more jewelry than Tiffany's main store.

"And how is my sweet little Princess puppy today? Give mommy a kissie-poo!"