Transitions in Grooming

When we talk about transitions in grooming, it’s easy to think about the big milestones: puppies turning into s

A vibrant blue butterfly rests gracefully on a leaf, embodying the beauty and transformative nature of life's transitions.

eniors, groomers going from newbies to teachers. But honestly? It’s the small, in-the-moment transitions that shape our days—and can sometimes make or break them.

Those little shifts—moving from room to room, task to task—are where the real magic (and the real chaos) live.

The Daily Shuffle

For the dogs, transitions might be going from the kennel to the tub, or from the drying table to the finish table. For me, it’s moving from the deep-focus work of grooming to talking to clients, or just finding the headspace to clean up and reset.

These tiny transitions can be surprisingly intense—especially for neurodivergent brains like mine, which struggle with task-switching. And dogs feel it too. Even if they know the routine, changes in space or environment can still spike their stress.

What Inspired My Approach

I started thinking differently about transitions after watching my sister with her daughter’s bedtime routine.

After the bath, my niece didn’t have to immediately jump into pajamas and get whisked off to bed. My sister would wrap her in a warm robe towel and tuck her under a blanket on the couch with an iPad while she took her own shower. It wasn’t just about staying warm—it was about making that shift from bath to bedtime gentler, cozier, and easier.

That clicked for me. Transitions don’t have to be these abrupt breaks. They can be softened, made more intentional and supportive—like wrapping someone in warmth so they’re ready for what comes next.

How I Bring That Into My Shop

In my shop, I try to carry that same spirit of gentle transitions—those small, intentional steps that help both the dogs and me feel safe and settled.

For the dogs:

• Taking a minute to watch their person leave—no rush, no yanking them straight into the next step.

• Doing each step the same way every time—same order, same calm energy—so they know what to expect.

For me:

• Setting up my space ahead of time so I’m not rummaging for tools mid-groom.

• Using quiet cues instead of talking—like pausing to take a breath, offering a little praise, and giving the dog some space to explore before we move on.

Designing Transitions Into the Space

I also put a lot of thought into how I designed the shop itself—using color and theme to make each room feel like a soft shift, not a jolt.

• Bathing & Drying Room – Water:Blues and calming vibes, separated just enough with white tile behind the drying tables so it feels like a gentle move from bath to blow dry.

• Lobby – Earth:Browns and greens, full of plants and a turtle pond with trickling water sounds. It’s grounding, a safe place to start or end the day.

• Grooming Room – Air:Light yellows and blues—airy and bright, but still calm enough to keep everyone centered while the real work happens.

• Classroom – Fire:Yellow and orange walls, balanced by grey, to nurture the spark of learning without overwhelming anyone.

Each room flows into the next, but it has its own feeling—like that warm blanket on the couch, helping us ease into what’s next.

What I’ve Learned

Transitions don’t have to be whirlwinds. They can be slow, thoughtful, and even cozy. They can be moments to breathe, to ground, and to create safety—for the dogs, for the humans, and for everyone in the space.

Because when we honor those little shifts—the tiny transitions—the big stuff gets a lot easier, too.