My very favorite thing in the world (at least as of the moment of this writing) is excellent customer service. When a salesperson goes out of her way to make me happy, I am likely a customer for life.
I have discovered that finding an acceptable dog groomer is much harder than finding an acceptable hairdresser. I had a wonderful groomer who worked out of her home, took appointments in two-hour intervals, and was very reasonable as far as price.
Then she got married and moved to Texas. Butthead.
I tried a couple of other places, but they proved to be unsatisfactory. One told me I could drop Gus off at 7:30, but drop him off is what I would have had to do. There was no one there until well after 8:00, and I was late to school. Another wouldn't take appointments and was only open sporadically. Sort of like a business in a Mexican resort town. Imagine Gus's disappointment when I told him we were going to the beauty shop and he didn't get to get a haircut.
I finally broke down and took him to the chain pet store that starts with the word Pet and ends with Smart. (Or, as Larry the Cable Guy has wondered, does it start with Pets and end with Mart? I don't have a logo handy to check it out.)
I didn't really want to go that route. I was afraid it would be considerably more expensive (correct) and that Gus would receive less than personal attention (woefully incorrect).
I won't go into the details of each and every one of his appointments. He's already changed groomers even there, but at least the location has stayed the same.
I knew his "regular" groomer was going to be out of town at the end of May, when it was time for his next appointment, so I didn't make an appointment ahead of time. Things got crazy with bicycle rides every weekend and getting ready for BRAG, so I didn't get around to making his appointment when the end of May rolled around. (Heck, I haven't even made MY doctor's appointments.)
Last weekend, though, the folks from the pet store called ME and asked if I would like to make an appointment. I was astounded enough to text Hubby, "Times must be hard." The girl said Gus's regular groomer, Alyssa, wouldn't be in until Friday, and I said I needed it done before then, so I would just schedule with whoever was available.
Imagine my surprise when I went to pick Gus up, and not only was he beautifully groomed, but the girl who had groomed him was Alyssa. She said she was supposed to be off that day, but when she saw Gus on the schedule, she came in so she could be the one who groomed him.
It may be a load of malarkey, but it was a nice thing to say even if it was a lie.
Service like that is worth a little bit more money. Besides, they are open early and are only two miles from our house.
Because I'm in such a good mood and am excited about leaving tomorrow morning for BRAG, I'll share with you a bonus photo from my travels (and travels and travels - story later) with Roz this afternoon.
Showing posts with label grooming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grooming. Show all posts
Friday, June 1, 2012
Monday, January 3, 2011
Gusman's Report Card.......
Ever since our beloved groomer up and got married and moved the heck to Texas, we have been struggling to find a groomer.
Actually, we have ignored the need for a groomer until Gus is embarrassed about how shaggy and unmanageable his coat is, and then we go into panic mode.
We tried a new little place in a strip mall in town. They did good work, only it was a crap shoot getting Gus in there. They didn't take appointments, you just dropped in. And you just hoped they might be there. Regular hours were not their thing. Perhaps they should have set up shop in Mexico, where that is the norm. Is it any wonder the business went under? (I mean it obviously has nothing to do with the crappy economy.)
Then we took him to an animal hospital, not his usual one because they don't do grooming, and they did a nice enough job. But Hubby had to call, make an appointment, take Gus, pick him up, and then remember to do it all over again in about six to eight weeks.
Yeah, that ain't happening.
So today, on Weesa's recommendation, we took him to the chain pet supply store that starts with Pet and ends with Smart (or, as Larry the Cable Guy asks, does it start with "Pets" and end with "Mart"?). No appointment was needed, and they said they would call when he was ready. Since they are only about 2.5 miles from our house, it was very convenient.
I don't know why, but like any parent I'm a little nervous when I take Gus anywhere for the first time. I dread negative comments like, "He barked continuously," "He bit one of the groomers," or the embarrassing, "Gus has fleas."
Here, though, is what his report card looked like:
"Gus was an absolute joy to groom! He was perfect for everything. I think he is part fox; his face is so cute. Thank you for the pleasure!"
I mean if nothing else, you just have to be giddy about a dog groomer who knows how to use a semi-colon correctly.
When I told Stephanie that his last groomer said he loved the dryer so much he almost went to sleep standing up, she said, "He DID love it! He loved it almost as much as I loved grooming him."
Yeah, it might be a sales pitch. It worked.
He didn't understand I was only trying to take a picture of him. He thought I was trying to take his treat, which is why he looks so suspicious in these shots.
I think we have found a new best friend. And if it costs twice as much as his old groomer, I can take comfort in the fact that it's still a heck of a lot cheaper than driving to Texas.
Actually, we have ignored the need for a groomer until Gus is embarrassed about how shaggy and unmanageable his coat is, and then we go into panic mode.
We tried a new little place in a strip mall in town. They did good work, only it was a crap shoot getting Gus in there. They didn't take appointments, you just dropped in. And you just hoped they might be there. Regular hours were not their thing. Perhaps they should have set up shop in Mexico, where that is the norm. Is it any wonder the business went under? (I mean it obviously has nothing to do with the crappy economy.)
Then we took him to an animal hospital, not his usual one because they don't do grooming, and they did a nice enough job. But Hubby had to call, make an appointment, take Gus, pick him up, and then remember to do it all over again in about six to eight weeks.
Yeah, that ain't happening.
So today, on Weesa's recommendation, we took him to the chain pet supply store that starts with Pet and ends with Smart (or, as Larry the Cable Guy asks, does it start with "Pets" and end with "Mart"?). No appointment was needed, and they said they would call when he was ready. Since they are only about 2.5 miles from our house, it was very convenient.
I don't know why, but like any parent I'm a little nervous when I take Gus anywhere for the first time. I dread negative comments like, "He barked continuously," "He bit one of the groomers," or the embarrassing, "Gus has fleas."
Here, though, is what his report card looked like:
"Gus was an absolute joy to groom! He was perfect for everything. I think he is part fox; his face is so cute. Thank you for the pleasure!"
I mean if nothing else, you just have to be giddy about a dog groomer who knows how to use a semi-colon correctly.
When I told Stephanie that his last groomer said he loved the dryer so much he almost went to sleep standing up, she said, "He DID love it! He loved it almost as much as I loved grooming him."
Yeah, it might be a sales pitch. It worked.
He didn't understand I was only trying to take a picture of him. He thought I was trying to take his treat, which is why he looks so suspicious in these shots.
I think we have found a new best friend. And if it costs twice as much as his old groomer, I can take comfort in the fact that it's still a heck of a lot cheaper than driving to Texas.
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