Dog Groomers/Tipping/& Attitudes
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Dog Groomers/Tipping/& Attitudes
My attempt of expanding my horizons. It went nowhere.
These are the stars that people have in their eyes when it comes to grooming their pet. Reality hurts.
Life is funny, or should I say people are funny. Being a dog groomer you get to see how people treat you, and believe me their true colors come out. But then again, I am sure this is true with a lot of professions. For instance, a lot of my customers also went to the same hairdresser I went to in Mississauga. I learned this while getting my roots done and we bonded over gossiping over bitchy clients. To learn we were talking about the same person really made us chuckle, and confirmed it was them not us. I came to the conclusion that if they were miserable, whiny, and cheap with me, chances are they were the same way with their hairdresser, mechanic, landscaper, shoe repairperson, ect.
Some people don’t understand the concept of tipping, which yes… applies to your dog groomer. For instance I used to do a beautiful red mini poodle in Oakville for $55 + 7% tax. She’d give me 3 twenties and waited for that $1.15 change every time. This always bugged me. So for her Christmas appointment I had the $1.15 in nickels and dimes in my pocket. I came into her house when I was finished, with my boots on (the horror!) and handed her Muffin, which BTW I did an especially good job that day. She handed me her standard 3 twenties, and waited. (Note: no Christmas tip). With my wet gloves with the fingers cut out, I reached into my pocket full of dog hair and coins and slapped her change on her Chippendale half-moon hall table and left. Needless to say she never called me again, which was the game plan.
Professionals have to realize sometimes there is no winning. You have to recognize with some that disaster is right around the corner. Take for instance Mrs. Pierce of Erin Mills, Ontario. I asked her repeatedly not to let her kids run around the van while I was grooming her Lhasa Apso, and keep them from slamming the broken front screen door. It would upset the dog, and it would jump when that door slammed loudly.
Finally I knew she would not discipline her kids, so I finally cut bait and told her please don’t call me anymore. A year later a woman named Mrs.” Pearce” called about her Lhasa Apso, same street, so of course I assumed it was her. I said, “I thought I said I didn’t want to groom your dog anymore?” She sounded puzzled. She started to laugh and said, “Oh you must have dealt with the other Mrs. Pierce who lives on this street. I am the nice Mrs. Pearce who spells her name different.” Well did we have a good laugh and I got all the gossip about the mean Mrs. Pierce. Needless to say she earned her reputation. So once again, it confirmed it wasn’t me, but her.
My stories are endless about my clients, but most were great. Many of them used to sit in the van with me and have coffee when I groomed their dog. It was great fun. The point I am trying to make is that I saw a pattern in the way some people treat service people. For instance there was this one family, well known in Mississauga. (You just have to look at the hospitals and see their name plastered all over the place). I groomed their schnauzer regularly. Their nanny would hand me the check already made out for exactly $58.85 then ask if I could cut their Boston Terrier’s nails. This went on for years. So I got fed up with them too. I finally told the nanny to tell her boss next time the Boston’s nails are $10.00 extra. I never heard from them again.
The point is some people’s ignorance, nastiness, cheapness, whininess evolves. Years after my career in dog grooming was long over, I had a good friend who lived on a street whose Bichon Frise I used to groom. I still remember her name and house quite vividly and she still lives there. She tipped me well, then proceeded to complain about the job I did. Finally I admitted defeat and told her obviously I’d never be able to satisfy her no matter how much I tried. I was telling my friend the story, with more gory details, and she said, “Yeah, no one gets along with her on the street”. So with my theory re-enforced, I still believe I am pretty good at summing up people.
So if you are still reading this blog, (which my brother says are too long), in spite of what Mr. Pink says about tipping, in his this famous movie scene https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z-qV9wVGb38, you should tip at least your hairdresser & yes, your dog groomer. (Please). They’ve earned it.




We all have memorable summer jobs as a kid. And if you are lucky these jobs will shape and influence you for the rest of your life. I know it has for me. My Dad told me about his summer job at 17 years old working on a section gang that turned him from being a boy to a man. I believe his specific words were, “It put hair on my chest”. He went from being a house painter and hoping it would rain so he wouldn’t have to work, to his father getting him a job on a “section gang”. He believed it would toughen him up, which it did. Needless to say his mother didn’t know about it, til he pointed it out one day to her as they passed a section gang working. She started to cry, and that was the end of his summer job. I saw my teenage son also having a cushy job of sorts, editing videos and such. I knew he needed a physical job to also toughen him up. I wanted him to experience working in the heat and sun and being exhausted when he got home. So I got him a job digging ditches for The Rain Gods, a first class company that installs home water sprinklers and lighting. Needless to say, he went through 3 pairs of top of the line Mark Work Warehouse work boots in one summer. Thank goodness they had a 1-year guarantee, and I keep receipts.
One of my more memorable jobs in the 70’s was working at the Rochester, NY’s Seneca Park Zoo. Back in those days zoos really were animal jails. I look back at those days and never gave it a second thought about how sad and miserable these animals must have been. Every day was an event. One misstep and disaster could strike. For instance one day I had the job of testing the water used for the seals. I put the chemical testing kit down beside the pool and didn’t the monkeys come and reach through their bars and steal it. I panicked. Was it poison? Did I just kill the monkeys due to my incompetence? My boss just laughed. Can you imagine if that were today? So many things wrong with that scenario in today’s job descriptions. Yet there I was, within a monkeys reach. Or there was the time I was feeding the cats from the catwalk. I had to hold a 15 lb. piece of meat while lifting the door on a pulley and throw it in the cage. The meat had conditioning oil on it, so it slipped from my grip. The panther jumps up to the 2 ft. by 3 ft. opening and starts clawing at it on the floor of the catwalk to get the meat. Thank goodness I was smart enough not to reach down and try to pick it up, because his claws were out reaching for it. Needless to say I just kicked the huge piece of meat to the cat. My stories are endless of the situations I was put in that were dangerous. I’d rake the pastures of camels, zebras, buffalo (and yes water buffalo) while they were walking around me. When I asked what I should do if they come around bugging me, they just told me to swat them with the rake. Go figure.
Complacency could easily set in. I got firsthand experience in that too. The night watchman’s family was good friends with my Dad, as his father was the GM of the Rochester Amerks when my Dad coached them. He often told me how he petted the tiger which seemed very tame. I told him he’d better watch her, for I was the one who fed her, and saw the way she was when feeding time arrived. Sure enough, on the way to work one morning the radio announces that a man was mauled last evening by a tiger. I knew it was Jaye. Somehow the tiger ended up looking bad, but everyone knew it was his fault. They put the tiger down, and no one ever spoke to Jaye again, including me. Cherry’s do have a tendency to blame the victim. (Except for my Mom).








