The Only Way is Essex at Diva Dogs in Chelmsford

The Attlee Way is Essex

I’ve never been to a grooming parlour before and, to be frank, I don’t think I need to go to one now. I keep myself smart and I’m no Beau Brummel. But Jane disagrees. Jane has booked me in for a session at Diva Dogs, in Chelmsford, because all the stars of The Only Way is Essex take their dogs there and she wants me to try it out too. Because I’m worth it, like the advert with Buster Cole’s owner in it says…

At first I am not sure. It is very strange. The parlour is pink outside, with a silhouette of a poodle on the logo, and inside there are lots of clothes and beds and toys for dogs. That is all right, I suppose – the toys bit anyway. I am not that mad on wearing clothes, unless I am being a Beefeater at the Tower of London or Sherlock Holmes solving a mystery at Dartmoor – that’s different. And I don’t need a bed, as I have my own, a double one, which I graciously allow Jane and Dodger to share.

At the side of the shop, behind a white picket fence, is a waiting room for dogs who are about to be coiffed, with a chaise longue, for dogs, and complimentary biscuits, for dogs. This is quite fun until a dog emerges from the grooming parlour with a ribbon on its forehead. A ribbon – I do not want one of them stuck on me. I’ll look ridiculous.

At first I don’t like the parlour bit of the shop, where Louise takes me, because it is behind closed doors and, for health and safety reasons, Jane can’t come with me. I would never say it to Jane, but, even though I’m big and brave, sometimes I do feel just a little bit safer when she is by my side.

But then I start to relax and enjoy it. I have a bath, with a deep conditioning treatment applied to my hair, and then a massage and then I am dried with a hand drier. Then my ears are cleaned and my whiskers too, and I am brushed and combed. It is quite good fun actually, being fussed over like this.

When I am brought outside for all to see, with my black and white bandana on, I feel very smart and proud and Jane gasps and claps her hands because I look so special. Like Uggie, at the Oscars, but more handsome. So I pose on the chaise longue, for some photographs.

We meet two Chihuahuas and their owner, who is a lady called Joy. One of the Chihuahuas is called Maddy and last year she was the best Chihuahua puppy at Crufts. So I am in high-up company. The other Chihuahua is called Tallulah and she is being bought two new dresses by Joy. That’s when I decide we had better leave, in case Jane decides to buy me a dress.

When I left I felt very smart and special but then I found a chicken bone on the streets and snaffled that. Then there was an empty Greggs bag to get my chops round. I clambered into a bush  too, because there was eau de squirrel emanating from it and that definitely needed to be investigated.

So, within ten minutes of leaving Diva Dogs, I was all mussed up again. Oh dear..

(I will say, though, that the deep conditioning stuff they put on my coat really worked and my fine fur was still soft a week later. So, Buster Cole, tell Cheryl that I, Attlee Common aka chicken bag dog of south-east London, AM worth it. I can be HAWT like you.)

  • Diva Dogs, Pet Boutique and Grooming Parlour, 42 New Street, Chelmsford, CM1 1PH. Tel: 01245 496644.

Website:  Prices start from £20.