Since I was old enough to grasp the idea that I needed a job in life, I’ve always wanted that job to involve animals. As a kid, I thought maybe I could be a Marine Biologist or live in Africa and work with lions and Elephants. My aspirations changed as I matured, formed other goals, and settled on pet grooming. My career choice has been a happy one in many ways. I have, indeed, worked with animals. I have also met wonderful people at the other end of the leash. I created a career around raising a child, and now that grown child works with me as she raises her two small daughters in our studio. Grooming took me to other countries and made me brave enough to compete in front of crowds and stand in a classroom, attempting to share my knowledge through teaching seminars. It even opened the door to allow me to pursue my second career choice, writing.
This week, I groomed an elderly Shetland Sheepdog that I have groomed a few times. He came to me when I was firmly NOT taking new customers, but a good groomer friend from out of state asked me to take the dog as a client as a special favor to him. It was a request I could not easily refuse because I care about my friend. The dog is sweet, with a good coat and an even temperament. He’s a little whiney and has trouble with the concept of standing still, but we can work around these things. His owner has always kept his coat full and natural, just trimming up the edges, but since moving to Maine, she has been very concerned about the rampant ticks and the dreadful diseases they carry. She is also aware that a shorter coat would be more manageable at his advanced age, lessening the time he must be still for grooming and keeping him more comfortable.
His previous grooming sessions with me involved clipping his coat with a C guard comb to reduce the length dramatically but still leave his pretty blue merle coloration intact. Then, his owner had a severe health crisis, and the dog had to miss an appointment or two with me. He stayed with friends on and off while his human was recovering, and I am pretty sure he didn’t see a brush or comb for months. When I got my hands on him this week, his coat was very long, he had a lot of packed undercoat, and he required a good bit of tender, loving care to get clean, dry,and brushed out. We took breaks. I let him lie down on a thick pad. I used all my best products and tricks and soon had his fur looking quite good, and I could comb from skin to tips all over. The change was a little drastic when I clipped him with that C comb, but in the end, he looked like a plush toy and seemed very pleased with himself.
A friend of the owners had brought him to me and picked him up. He paid me, and I sent the dog home with an appointment card for a repeat visit in three months. The next day, my phone rang, and his owner’s name popped up on the caller ID. I had a moment of hesitation as I answered. I wondered if there was something wrong. Was he sore from his grooming after so many months? Did the trim look too dramatic since he came in with such long fur? “I LOVE it!” her voice rang out. “He’s so cute I could eat him. I can’t stop looking at him. He feels so good. He smells so nice. I’ve had a horrible few months, and looking at my dog makes me feel happy for the first time in a long time.” And that, in a nutshell, is one of the reasons I love grooming.
