My mother was a dog groomer from the time she was 16 until she got too much arthritis to continue. My parents owned a pet store for a number of years, and then they sold it & bought the grooming shop mom trained in. I was her Chief Dog Washer for years & years. I had no desire to EVER be a groomer! I think the reason mosquitos and fleas don't bite me is that I still have dip in my bloodstream!
Mom never needed a customer to sign anything back in the 60's and '70s. If she made some kind of mistake, she would not charge the person for her work and would offer something besides - shampoo or treats or other things she sold. She had the most loving and loyal customers on the planet and always worked to do good by them.
Now, I had to bathe some nasty animals. Things that bit and scratched and came at me with fangs, teeth and claws. I hated some dogs quite specifically and still (at age 44) remember the names of my Arch-nemesis dogs and cats.
Robby, the Yorkie, who wasn't happy until he hanged himself at least once trying to jump off the table or out of the tub. He worked at it, finding every means possible to get tangled in
something so he would hang. No matter what we did, how we harnassed him, how carefully we arranged the world around him, he managed to hang himself by the neck in something - I personally think he was suicidal. Maybe he was. Couldn't take all the bows and foofy fragrances he had to endure.
Weenie-boy the shi'tzu who was all lovey dovey and gooey eyed until your guard was down. Then without warning he BIT! and there was no muzzle mom could buy that he couldn't get his blunt little nose around. He always got me.
Great White the (I thought at the time) 900 lb cat who was aptly named for the shark (Jaws was the film of the year) I HATED him. He would always find a way to jump onto me when he was slippery and soapy, dig his claws into my body through all my clothing & my canvas apron and chew on my face.
DId I mention I hated him? Passionately?
Good luck with your own grooming business, though. While I had a few animals I feared like death itself, there were hundreds of great animals over the years that I loved. Edgar, the singing airdale (he aspired to the opera and could put Beverly Sills to shame) and Lardo, the most enormous great pyraneese I've ever seen, who was as gentle as a stuffed toy. He was too big to wash in tub of any kind, so I washed him right on the floor over the floor drain.
But you know, when I think of my mom and get to missing her badly, I will go out of my way to visit a pet store, just to stand in the unique smell that come from petstores that have animals in them. I get all teary eyed --- then laugh maniacally because my days of washing and wearing someone else's critters are OVER!