Mrs. Penny Kerner asked her daughter in a loud voice, adjusting the collar of her suede jacket, while looking at herself in a large hallway mirror. Her daughter, Cathleen, having a more gentle nature and softer tone replied in a whisper, “Mother, lower your voice. She’s right around the corner and may hear you.” Cathleen glanced anxiously toward a door that was partially ajar. “I don’t care.” Cathleen raised her tone a bit. “Besides, she’s not a groomer, she’s a pet stylist.” “She’s a dog groomer. A fancy name doesn’t change what she does.” “I’m sure they’ll be done soon.” “I hope so,” her mother stated harshly. Yvette Coulier continued to brush the luxuriously silky brown fur of Binky, a three-year-old Pomeranian, as she sat snugly in the folds of an oversize, blue crushed-velvet cushion. She had been very cooperative and had managed to maintain the same position throughout the photo shoot. Although the photographer, Lewis Wolfson, had finished taking pictures, Yvette wanted to make sure that Binky continued to look her best.
