Tackling Toenails

When Hunter, the 3 year old Curly-Coated Retrievier, joined the Windsong family, he came with monster toenails. Not only were they way too long, they were also too big for the clipper that I used on Niki, the Huskyish pound puppy, and they were jet black so I couldn't see through them. In retrospect, it is probably good that the clipper was too small as I could only nip off less than 1/8 inch at the tip of the nail. Hunter let me do one, count it, ONE toenail, before he screamed and jumped and ran away. I was stupefied, but that didn't matter at the moment because I was so busy running around behind him wiping up the blood spots from where that one toenail bled (I later learned about the wonderful stuff that can stop bleeding). The quik had grown to the end of the toenail.

After much study on alternative methods to do toenails, I settled on a cordless, dremmel drill to takle the job. Now, how was I going to make him let me touch those toenails? It wasn't going to happen, according to Hunter so I had to figure out a way to make him trust me again.


And then I hit on his weak spot, his belly. Hunter would lay beside me on the floor and let me rub his belly forever, nudging my hand every time I stopped. It dawned on me one evening that while rubbing his belly, I could turn the dremmel on and let him get used to the sound. He learned fast, that if he laid still, I would keep rubbing his belly so the noise became a tolerable nuisance. Next I adjusted our shared space so that I could reach his belly and all the toenails without moving. Then I started messing with his feet while I rubbed his belly, and then touching a toenail with the dremmel. It is amazing how much annoyance he was willing to accept as a trade off for his belly rub.

To make a long story short, we tackled those monster toenails. Now, all my Curlies get early toenail training with belly therapy and the dremmel drill. It is a process, but when complete, they tolerate getting their nails done. When I announce "toenail time", they all willingly join me in the living room and wait for their turn to get their toenails done. They come to me, I never have to get up (I sit on the floor to do toenails) and hunt them down or drag them to the dremmel. They come, lay down and roll over, belly up and wait for me to get started. Deacon is notorious for trying to go twice and Ziva is learning that trick too. It's almost funny having to shove off one Curly while another one claims the magic spot that belly rubs come from. Notice, I said almost - there's nothing like being squished between two big dogs who both want to be in your space.


When I hear other Curly-Coated Retriever owners talk about their toenail woes, I offer up my belly advice (I wrote an article for the Curly-Commentator about it once). I'm also told by some owners that cookies work for them. If you want to look up the psychological terms for this trade-off behavior, feel free. I'm just happy that it works and that we have a great experience at toenail time. It seems that everything good in life begins and ends with a belly rub.


Q & A for the day:


While we're on the topic of toenails, and assuming you end up with the belly side of the dog at your disposal, What are some other things you can do during the toenail process?

I have a toenail kit that contains first aid stuff, medicated powder, triple antibiotic cream, scissors and a few other handy items. The scissors afford me the opportunity to do some underside grooming, if necessary. I use toenail time to examine the entire underside of the dog. I find any bumps, lumps, scratches, rashes or other problems at this time. Since some dogs only give me one shot at doing their nails, it is essential that the kit be in reach so that I can address whatever I find without getting up. And they don't mind the exam if it is camoflauged as a belly rub.