The human dynamics of dog grooming

“Grooming the dogs is the easy part. It’s the frigging humans that make me crazy!”
–Every dog groomer

We have a very strict policy at the shop:

Whoever drops off the dog picks the groom. The shape of the face, the length of the body coat, the color of the bandana, it’s all on the table for discussion at check in, and over the years we’ve discovered that what kind of haircut the dog gets can rank up there with the worst of marital conflicts. Shouting matches in the parking lot. Husbands and wives calling the shop with conflicting instructions. We’ve had one partner request a full body Mohawk, and the other owner come in to have it removed the next day.

Here’s a true story:

Mr. Owner drops off a cockapoo puppy. The puppy, let’s call her Angie, has some pretty bad mats and tangles. Thankfully, it’s a groomer who checks Angie in.

“I dunno,” the groomer says. “I know last time we just did a bath and touch-up, but her hair is pretty matted. She might need a haircut this time.”

“Yes,” exclaims Mr. Owner. “I want a haircut. Her fur is way too long. Don’t shave her too short, but definitely give her a groom.”

OK. We’ve got a plan. #1 puppy clip coming up. Done.

End of the day comes, and Mrs. Owner and Oldest Daughter comes to pick up.

They pay the bill, and we have a chat in the brief time before the new-and-improved Angie makes her appearance.

“Hope you like the new look,” I say. “The haircut we gave her is the longest is the one possible, although we can go shorter in the summer if you’d like.”

“A haircut?!?!” Mrs. shrieks loudly. “My husband is going to be so pissed. He brushes her every night for half an hour and just told me this morning that he loves her long hair. I can’t believe you did that.”

I didn’t point our policy. Obviously her husband didn’t want to tell her that he was tired of brushing a squirmy puppy. But this is why we have a policy. Because, damnit, we’re dog groomers. We gave Angie a cute haircut. We are interested in shampooing & scissoring, not being marital therapists.

All I said to Mrs. Owner was; “It’s fur. It grows back.”