Welcome to the Bloodbath (in a real way)
You want to try grooming your pet at home. Adorable. Brave. Could be stupid.
It looks like it could be done, much like making bangs in ninth school. Then, all of a sudden, you’re in the middle of a bath with a slip-and-slide Labrador, scissors, shampoo, your pride, and enough hair clumps to make a second pet.
And for what? To “save money.” Spoiler alert: you won’t save anything. You’ll lose your dignity, a few ounces of blood, and possibly half of your bathroom rugs.
Taking care of pets is already a full-time job. Add some DIY grooming, and congratulations, you’ve just become TLC’s newest reality show: When Animals Attack… Their Owners’ Money and Patience.
Get ready for the breakdown of grooming your beloved chaos goblin in your small apartment where the water pressure is low and your dog thinks the blow dryer is a demon from hell.
The Bath: Like Wrestlemania in Your Bathtub
When you brush a dog, you’re not bathing it; you’re going into battle.
This is how it goes:
- Step 1: Put water in the tub.
- Step 2: Ask the dog to come. The dog stares at you like he’s seen this episode of Breaking Bad before and won’t go in.
- Step 3: Put the dog in the tub. The dog goes full Tasmanian devil.
- Step 4: Accept that you will be wetter than them.
And don’t think cats are easier. Ha. Cats in baths are like Satan in person. In a matter of seconds, they go from fluffy angels to velociraptors with sharp blades.
If you get hit by a paw, you’ll bleed through your SpongeBob PJ pants and wonder if tetanus shots are still a thing.
Let’s also talk about the smell. The smell of wet dogs sticks much longer than student loan debt. No matter what kind of fancy shampoo you use—lavender, oatmeal, “hypoallergenic” delight—within five minutes, it all smells like a swamp creature.
Brushing: Otherwise People Call It the Never-Ending Furry Apocalypse
Brushing your pet is more like a way to survive after the end of the world than a spa day.
Do you brush a dog with short hair? Congratulations, you’ll be cleaning hair for the next ten years.
Try a cat with long hair? That fur carpet has grown into its own ecosystem. Brushing is where dreams go to die, to be honest.
It begins out calm, with Netflix on and a cup of coffee next to you. By the end, your pet recalls they’re late for zoomies, your black leggings look like they sprouted wool, and you’re choking on loose fur.
And isn’t it strange that no matter how much you brush, there’s always more? Physics can’t explain why your 20-pound corgi sheds enough hair per week to cover a Toyota Corolla.
The “You May Die Today” Ritual: Nail Trimming
You’ve chosen to cut your pet’s nails at home instead of having a professional do it. Brave. Brave. Dumb.
The rule is that pets become street combatants as soon as nail clippers show up.
That little chihuahua? Now a heavyweight in MMA.
That sweet golden retriever? Jean-Claude Van Dog.
- Position pet: fail.
- Cutting one nail could lead to a bloody mess.
- Your pet cries like you just did The Exorcist.
- You Google “how long does quick bleeding last?” in a panic.
In the meantime, your neighbors assume you’re doing dark rites in your living room. Spoiler: You are a little bit.

Haircuts at Home: Scissors, Regret, and Hurt Feelings
Cutting your own pet’s hair is going to be the plot twist of the year unless you’re secretly Edward Scissorhands.
At first, you think, “How hard can it be?”
After watching a few tutorials on YouTube, you have confidence, clippers, and a poodle that shakes.
After fifteen minutes, uh oh, you gave them a reverse Mohawk by mistake. Congratulations, your pet now appears like they lost a bet.
And if you think you’re better with scissors than with clippers? No, honey, you’re not. One bad cut and your cat looks like they got drunk at Coachella and let Chad give them a buzz cut.
The Story of Your Hairdryer’s Villain Origin
After the big bath fight, it’s time to dry off. Simple, right? Hah! No.
Using a Dyson to blow-dry a pet is like trying to get rid of a devil. The noise alone makes them the most likely to run away.
You know those TikToks of dogs having a great time getting their hair done and their ears blowing in the wind? Yes, that’s not real life.
Real life is:
- Pet runs.
- You follow them about like a crazy Ghostbuster with the dryer.
- No matter what, everything gets wet.
- They hurry outside right away and roll around in the dirt.
It’s okay, though. No problem at all. Everything is okay. No, it’s not.
The Brutal Truth About DIY Grooming
In the end, grooming yourself at home is just torture.
The truth is that grooming your pet yourself isn’t actually about your pet. It’s about you convincing yourself that you can avoid spending money while also ruining your bathroom, your self-esteem, and your will to live.
Some people are naturally good at it, yes. For the rest of us, though, we’re just going to war. And yet, we’ll do it again next month because “bonding with them” sounds better than “I forgot how scary it was to cut my nails.”
That’s what it’s like to take care of a pet: crazy, frustrating, and the most alive you’ll ever feel.
And yes, they will still adore you after that, largely because you feed them.
Conclusion: Congratulations, Intern Groomer
Congratulations! You are basically an intern at a pet spa.
If you’ve read all of this, two things are true:
- You’re either putting off real work or
- You’re about to try to groom yourself at home out of desperation.
No matter what, Godspeed.
You usually end up with the same thing: you go in hoping to save $80, but you come out with fur, scratches, and the sad conclusion that PetSmart definitely deserves your money after all.
But hey, at least your pet looks “fine.” Sort of.




