Its just not my day.... Or my dogs

My poor little Pomeranian Cato. I love him. He's beautiful, and friendly and playful and always wants to be a good puppy.

Unless being a good puppy means letting you groom him, then he turns into the demon dog. Wiggling, growling, threatening to snap at me. I mean, he gets GROUCHY.
So, okay, I'm thinking, the grouchy dog can go to the groomer.

So, I take my long silky haired Cato to the groomer. I say, Do Not Shave My Puppy. Groom him out and trim him up, especially around the hindquarters where he can be prone to get messy sometimes because the hair was so damned long.

So, I leave my puppy in what I was assured was capable hands and returned a few hours later.

God, if this is an indication of what of the week is going to be like, I think I'm gonna find a hole to hide in.

I pick up my puppy, and he was SHAVED. All but his neck and head.
Their excuse? His undercoat was matted.
EXCUSE ME. DUH!! Didn't I say he won't let me comb him or brush him? Did I not SAY do not SHAVE MY PUPPY!!!
Grrr.
I need to find a cave to hide in. My puppy is hiding from me. He glares at me now. I really don't think he's happy with me....