Dear God, please make it stop

I've not quite figured out the ins and outs of being a small(ish) dog owner. I mean, he gets groomed more often than I get my hair cut. And grooming basically involves shaving his fur off, leaving just his eyebrows, mustache and beard. It's a little like a Playboy bunny in earmuffs, mittens and boots. Decorative, but hardly helpful.

So we shave his natural insulation off until he's shivering like an epileptic chihuahua at temperatures below 40, and then we go to PetSmart and buy him clothes. I never in a million years thought I'd be one of those dog owners that dress up their dogs. I mean, can you see wirecutter putting argyle sweaters on Charliegoddammit? No? Me neither. But there I am, perusing sweaters, sweatshirts, and coats, looking for the least emasculating garments for my very masculine Schnauzer. This is one of the choices. (I reluctantly put the one with the squirrel on it back on the rack). He's thrilled.