05/26/2024
Most of my clients know me to be blunt person in general and I'm very open about grooming, about the conditions of your pets, that what's best for your pet is what's gonna happen. I picked grooming because I couldn't be a vet ( Vets are the ones who send pets over the bridge) not assistants, not tech, but Dr./Vet and I just can't do that 🌈💔. So my second passion was grooming...
Who ever wrote this ...I HEAR YOU.👂. And I have 20+ years on ya..
To my clients, please don't take this post as I'm not passionate about what I do, because I am. I love my time with each pet. ❤️🐾
But I can relate...(I'm a 20 + years groomer)
(I saved this bc I related so much. This is not mine, but it's a good read:)
My passion as a groomer didn’t die, it was stolen.
In the wake of ‘Groomer appreciation day’ I’d like to talk about how hard it is to enjoy that day anymore...Because I don’t feel appreciated, in fact...I barely feel anything for my career anymore and unfortunately, I’m not the only one. So let’s talk about that, but first, let’s talk about where my passion came from.
My passion used to be...dogs. Oh, I was obsessed with them. Animals of all kinds, but especially dogs. I can’t remember a time where I didn’t love dogs and if you ask my family, they couldn’t either. I was so crazy about them, I would tell people I wanted to be one. Obviously, that was impossible, so there had to be a way to make my life all about...dogs.
My passion used to be...art. I wasn’t great, I was good though! I could look at something and draw it, paint it or sculpt it. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it was fun and I thrived to get better, to be able to do something creative and fun. Something to use that skill, to use my hands. I always wanted to draw animals, but even more so, I loved to draw or paint...dogs.
My passion used to be...grooming. Finally, finally! I found a way to bring my two biggest loves in the world...together. To have dogs in my life every day AND express a creative skill of my own. I found grooming.
Even better? I was exceptional at it from the beginning. I soared through academy, I picked it up like I was born to hold those scissors, like I was born to be a groomer. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else, all I could talk about was grooming.
This was no longer just a job, I was never talented at anything. I never thought I’d have a career, just passing jobs. I was okay at drawing, I was good at writing and reading, but this? I was amazing. This was a career, not just a job. I wanted to be someone, something important in this industry. I wanted to be someone that people recognized, that they asked for advice, complimented, loved. I wanted to make an impact in the career I so desperately enjoyed.
There was nothing that could take this from me. I spent thousands of dollars on equipment and continued education, I learned from everyone I could. I loved what I found.
So what happened? Why did it all change? That burning passion became a flame that burnt everything away and now...Now I dread getting up in the morning. I wonder why I look at my grooms don’t look exciting, I no longer look at them and think ‘wow...I created this!’.
I used to think this sudden change in excitement was my fault...Did I stop caring what they looked like? Am I not putting in enough effort? What am I doing? Maybe in some ways the loss of passion is my fault, but the more I think about it...the more I think...my passion didn’t die, it didn’t disappear...it was stolen.
My passion was stolen by...greedy business owners. Those that don’t know a thing about grooming or the industry, yet they still see that there’s a need for grooming and there’s good money in it, so they insert themselves where they shouldn’t. With no research and no compassion.
They want more, more, more. If you’re sick, groom. If you’re tired, groom. If you’re injured, groom. No matter what is wrong, be at work. No matter how you do it, get it done. It’s a factory. The schedules are piled on to you. Dog after dog after dog. You no longer know their names or their quirky personalities. You no longer stop to get a kiss on the cheek or scratch their ear. There’s no time for that. One dog becomes another which becomes another.
They melt into each other, you barely think. You just….groom.
My passion was stolen by uneducated pet parents. Those that buy dogs that are high maintenance, but they decide not to care for those needs. They expect the impossible, but we cannot achieve it and when we don’t...we are degraded and ridiculed.
This isn’t a real job! You play with puppies all day! It’s your job to brush them out! My fluffy wouldn’t harm a soul!
One star reviews, a bashing facebook post….Degradation and shame that can destroy someone’s entire career. All because they didn’t take a brush to their dog every day, like they do their own hair.
We’re called lazy, except...it’s grueling on my back to stand there for an hour picking through your dog's pelted body to safely remove it from its fur casket.
We’re being unfair...Because we give your dog sweet relief instead of caving to your vanity.
We’re abusive...Because those mats caused knicks and bruises, because your dog is shaking since he’s now exposed and cold.
I’m so worried now that I have them sign multiple disclosures and show them pictures of exactly what their dog will look like...I’m afraid to help your dog...because your single facebook post can end my income, it can end my career.
My passion was stolen by untrained dogs. The ones that I can’t blame...because it’s not their fault. It’s the one holding the leash that failed them. But I cannot say that. If I say that, I upset you...You will yell, you will blame me and again...you can end my career.
So I cannot blame your dog, but I cannot blame you...So I do my best to work with him. As he wiggles and turns. When he screams and bites. Your words can end my career, but so can his teeth.
I do not blame him, but I am tired...I am sore. He is making me want to go home.
My passion was stolen by my body. I’m not yet 30, but I might as well be 60 with the way my wrist aches. The way my back screams when I pick your “little” Bella up. My body can’t keep up with the demand, but I work through it.
Only five more hours...another tylenol will make it through the day and if I wash that back with some coffee...I won’t be so tired anymore. I only kid myself, as my ankles creak in pain and my neck twinges when I turn it.
One carpal tunnel surgery will set me out of work for at least a week...that’s a large impact on income, but maybe that surgery will give me some relief to push through another 10 years of this.
But then again...we just play with dogs all day.
Don’t get me wrong...I still love my job. I still love dogs and I still love art. I WANT my passion back. I deserve that passion. I deserve to be good at something, to be great! I deserve your respect and your kindness.
I should be allowed to tell you that your dog is difficult and we have to train him to get better without you thinking I must have hit him to make him bad.
I should be allowed to shave your poor, matted dog without you screaming at me for his naked, bruised body.
I should be allowed….to be passionate for the career I once loved.
Appreciate your groomer and understand that we are also humans.