04/15/2026
Ten years ago today, I didn’t start a business because I had a plan.
I started it because life forced my hand.
The place I worked had just sold, and it was turning into something that no longer aligned with me. I remember looking at my life—really looking at it—and realizing that as a mother, I couldn’t keep playing it safe if “safe” wasn’t actually leading anywhere better.
I was terrified.
I almost didn’t do it. I even tried to get another job just to avoid the unknown. But on April 15th, something in me made the decision. And on April 16th, I groomed my first dog out of my home.
No loan. No clear direction. Just skill, work ethic, and a willingness to figure it out.
The beginning? Brutal.
Bare bones doesn’t even cover it. I didn’t have a proper dryer—I was hand drying dogs with a regular hair dryer until my equipment came in. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked.
And that’s something I didn’t realize at the time—
it doesn’t have to be perfect to be real.
Some people didn’t follow me when I left. That stung. But the ones who did? They built me. They told their friends, they showed up, and little by little, I started to believe in myself too.
Then came one of the lowest moments—our home sold, and I had to figure out a brick-and-mortar space fast.
I thought I had one lined up. Lost it. Felt completely defeated.
And then something strange happened.
A client mentioned a spot opening up on Pineapple. I called immediately. Turns out, the woman who took the space I lost… was the same one leaving the Pineapple location.
So I ended up with her old spot.
That’s how I got my salon.
Not from a perfect plan—but from staying in it long enough for things to move.
I knew it was going to work when my old clients kept finding me. When they went out of their way to track me down and send people my way.
That’s when it clicked—
this wasn’t luck. I had built something people trusted.
Opening my brick-and-mortar salon was one of the proudest moments of my life. Not because it looked impressive, but because I knew exactly what it took to get there.
I built this with very little money.
I built it while learning everything as I went.
I built it by getting better—day by day, dog by dog.
Now it’s a one-on-one salon. Intentional. Calm. Built around the wellbeing of the dogs and the people.
And more than anything, it built me.
It gave me confidence.
It gave me freedom.
It taught me that boundaries and self-respect don’t hurt your business—they make it stronger.
If you’re where I was 10 years ago, here’s the truth:
You don’t need the best setup.
You don’t need a perfect plan.
You don’t need to know exactly how it’s all going to work.
You need to care.
You need to be willing to improve.
And you need to start.
Because what sets you apart isn’t a high-volume salon or expensive equipment.
It’s how you show up.
It’s how you treat the animals.
It’s how much you actually give a damn.
That’s what builds something real.
