Written by I’ve already written at length about the fact that I am a bit of a sucker when it comes to infomercials (click HERE if you need a refresher). I don’t know what it is. There’s just something about those fast-talking endorsements that make even the most ridiculous products seem not only plausible, but downright desirable. By the time they are flashing the 1-800 number up on the screen, I’m utterly convinced that my life will be completely fulfilled and a whole lot simpler if I can just get my hands on a Slap Chop or a Slushy Magic or the Smooth Away Hair Removal System.
Well, maybe I’m not completely convinced, but I am curious enough about the products to spend a few bucks when I happen to find them in the bargain bin at my local Walmart or Bed Bath & Beyond. And while there have been a few hits–like the Perfect Pancake and the Sham-Wow–there have also been a few big misses.
Case in point–Pedi-Paws.
In theory, this product is brilliant. When you own a dog like Electra, whose sleek coat requires very minimal grooming, there is little reason to fork out a lot of money to take her to a professional groomer. The only reason we ever paid a professional in the first place was because I was scared to try and clip her toenails on my own.
Go ahead and judge me. Call me a wuss. But take a look at the problem for yourself…
Electra doesn’t just have toenails, she has large multi-colored raptor claws. Some are whitish and sort of opaque and some are thick and black, making it nearly impossible to be 100% sure where the quick is. Her nails belong on an animal much larger, a Saint Bernard or a rhinocerous perhaps.
I think my fear of becoming Electra’s personal pedicurist might have something to do with the fact that our sweet hound walks around with a face so mopey you’d swear she suffers from canine clinical depression. Deep down, I know that is just a byproduct of being half-basset. But there’s just something about that sad, droopy face that makes me fear that she just might never forgive me if I accidentally hurt her by cutting one of her nails too short. And if there was actually any blood involved, I would never be able to forgive myself.
Enter Pedi-Paws.
The infomercial made it look so simple, and it guaranteed a no-pain alternative to nail-cutting. I figured it was worth a try.
Worst purchase ever.
Problem #1 – Between the high-pitched whining noise and the vibration, Electra wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. It took a combination of cookies, peanut butter and a modified wrestling hold to actually get her to stay still long enough to give it a try, which led to…
Problem #2 – While the Pedi-Paws might actually be useful on a cat or a chihuahua or another animal that has small, manageable nails, the only thing that is really going to work on Electra’s talons is a high-powered belt sander. Roughly 30 seconds and 2 toenails into our first attempt with the Pedi-Paws and we were already replacing the rotating emery head. Not a good first impression.
We gave it a few more tries, just to make sure there wasn’t some secret we were missing, but the final conclusion on this one is that it’s not even worth the batteries inside it. Destination = trash.
I will leave you with a few of my favorite excerpts from the instruction manual. These were simply too good not to share…
Lori Romano 