Melissa Grant Writes

I kind of drifted through my earlier adult life without much purpose. I didn’t know what I wanted to be, but I knew I wanted no part in being whatever it was that was expected of me.

Was I a little rebellious?

Yes.

Did I have reasons for that?

Also, yes, but that’s old history and not worth delving into now.

At any rate, the end result was a series of dead-end, dull jobs.

I did retail for longer than any human should have to endure. I did it SO long that I could tell you what a coin was by how it sounded hitting the counter (there’s a skill I’m betting most people don’t have today).

My last retail position for a while was as manager of a high-end home décor store. I could afford to buy none of the merchandise, lived in my best friend’s basement mother-in-law apartment, and when the owners announced they were closing soon, I panicked.

By this time, I had a dog, Lola, who came with me to work, and I thought about finally doing something I loved involving my favorite creatures on earth.

I looked into pet grooming, but I knew my dog wasn’t happy at the salon, and working with vaguely cranky pooches didn’t sound like fun to me. So, after some thought, I landed on dog training, found a school to become one, borrowed money from my parents to attend, and started a new career path.

School led to training at Petco, which led to taking on private clients.  I finally had a job that I didn’t feel embarrassed about, that people seemed interested in and respected, and that I enjoyed. I added dog walking and some pet sitting to the plan, met my now-husband and started working in THE wealthiest neighborhood in the area. (That experience may be a book someday.)

Life was good.

Then 2008 happened, and my job was the first household cut everyone seemed to make. After struggling for a couple of years, to supplement my rapidly dwindling income, I took a job at a pet store (well, and merchandising Hallmark cards/magazines and a plethora of other odd tasks) and settled back into retail to wait for the economy to improve.

The pet store owner was also trying to save some money and asked if I would write a bi-monthly column about dogs for a local news blog to offset her advertising costs. Having always enjoyed writing (my mouth tends to get ahead of my brain, and I can express myself better in words), I said sure.  

Boy, did I start something there…