The Grooming Curriculum Forgot the Dog
- Stephenie
- Apr 7
- 5 min read
Why behavior training matters way more than your scissoring speed.
You remember that trend on TikTok—groomers dancing
to Eminem, then blasting the air hose in a dog’s face like it’s part of the choreography? And the dog goes into full-on panic mode, spinning, snapping, flipping out—
and the groomer laughs?
Yeah. That was a masterclass in what not to do.
And I’m not saying that to roast anyone. Most people weren’t trying to be cruel—they just didn’t know better. Because let’s be honest: the grooming industry didn’t exactly prioritize behavior education. Most of us were taught how to hold clippers and scissors, not how to recognize a dog in full fight-or-flight.
But here’s the thing—when a dog snaps or freaks out, it’s not “bad behavior.” That dog is scared. It's overwhelmed. It’s trying to survive.
And if you’ve ever had your own nervous system hit that fight-or-flight wall (hi, fellow neurospicy friends 👋), then you know what it’s like to say or do things you don’t mean just to make the moment end.
The difference? We can apologize after.
Dogs can’t.
So they get labeled “aggressive.”
They get notes on their file.
They get banned.
When really, they just needed someone to understand what was happening and help them regulate.
This isn’t about blaming groomers—it’s about showing you a piece of the puzzle that the curriculum skipped.
Not because you're doing it wrong—but because you weren’t taught the full picture.
And once you do see it? Everything changes.
Not All “Bad Dogs” Are Bad
Sometimes a dog walks in and immediately gets labeled: “difficult,” “aggressive,” “needs a muzzle,” or my personal favorite—“he’s just dramatic.”
But here’s a radical idea: what if the dog isn’t being dramatic?
What if the dog is having a completely reasonable reaction… to something we don’t fully understand?
Temple Grandin tells this story about working with cattle. There was a tunnel they had to walk through, but the animals kept stopping, tripping, or outright refusing to go through. Nobody could figure out why—it looked fine to everyone standing above it.
But Temple got down into the tunnel. She looked at it from the cow’s perspective—literally. And what she found was wild: there were shadows, reflections, random light flares, and a heel-catching dip that made the whole experience terrifying for the animal.
From the outside? Just a tunnel.
From their point of view? A horror movie hallway full of red flags.
We do the same thing to dogs.
We know what the dryer is.
We know what the clippers are.
We know it’s “just a bath.”
But to the dog?
It’s loud.
It smells weird.
You’re touching them in sensitive spots.
There’s water.
The floor is slippery.
You're in their bubble.
And no one’s explained what the hell is going on.
They’re not thinking, “Oh, I’m being difficult today.”
They’re thinking, “What fresh hell is this and how do I survive it?”
We have to stop assuming dogs see the world the same way we do. They don’t.
And the sooner we realize that, the sooner we can actually start working with them instead of constantly being shocked when they “act out.”
You Don’t Have to Be a Trainer, But You Do Have to Pay Attention
Look, I’m not asking every groomer to become a certified behaviorist. Most of us are already juggling a million things a day—we’re not trying to tack on a full psychology degree.
But you do need to pay attention.
Learning to read a dog’s body language isn’t just about preventing bites—it’s about understanding how to meet that dog where they are.
Because they’re all different.
Some shut down.
Some spin like a hurricane on the table.
And some—like my sweet little Pomsky client, Timber—will let you know with their teeth when they’ve had enough.
Now, Timber is a perfect fluffy angel who wouldn’t hurt
a soul… unless that soul comes at him with a slicker brush.
The first time I groomed him, he was super impacted. Like, “Is this ethically brushable?” levels of matted. I tried to work it out gently during the bath and drying process because I didn’t want to shave him down to his skin.
Spoiler alert: He was not on board.
The second that brush came near him on dry coat?
Fight mode.
And you know what?
I got the message loud and clear. I shaved his hind end
with a #10 and we started fresh.
Now?
He’s on a six-week schedule, and we’ve found a rhythm that actually works for both of us. I brush him in the bath while he’s wet and relaxed—he’s totally fine with that. Then once he’s dry, I hit him with some finishing spray and do a gentle brush-out, and he tolerates it like a champ—as long as I respect his limits.
That’s what paying attention looks like. It’s not about
forcing cooperation. It’s about collaboration. And it’s made Timber’s grooms faster, less stressful, and way more pleasant—for both of us.
It’s Safer, Smarter, and Way Less Drama
You know what’s exhausting?
White-knuckling your way through a groom, praying you don’t get bit, thrown out, or end up emotionally wrecked before lunch.
You know what’s worse?
Thinking that’s just how grooming has to be.
Learning to understand behavior doesn’t just make you a better groomer—it makes the job doable.
It makes it safer. Smarter. Cleaner.
Like… why choose violence when you could choose communication?
Here’s what happens when you start looking at behavior as information instead of inconvenience:
You get fewer injuries—because you saw the warning signs before the snap.
You get more done—because you’re not spending 40 minutes trying to recover from a meltdown.
You burn out less—because it’s not a constant state of fight, flight, or “I hate my life.”
And your clients? They trust you more—because their dog is coming home tired but not traumatized.
Behavior knowledge isn’t some elite bonus skill—it’s the foundation of a sustainable career. It’s what helps us stay in this field without losing our minds… or our fingers.
And no, it won’t make every dog love grooming. But it will help you figure out how to meet them halfway.
Final Thoughts: You Don’t Know What You Don’t Know—Until You Do
If you’ve made it this far, first of all—bless your attention span. Second, I hope this didn’t feel like a lecture, because that’s not the point.
This isn’t about shaming groomers or throwing the whole industry in the trash. It’s about realizing that we were set up with incomplete information—and now that we do know better, we can do better.
You don’t have to overhaul your whole system overnight.
You don’t need a fancy certification or a diploma in dog psychology.
You just need to start noticing. Listening. Pausing when something feels off.
Because dogs aren’t being difficult to ruin your day. They’re just trying to get through it—same as us.
And if we give them the chance to be heard, they might just surprise us with how well they can handle it.
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