We opened Mophead in 2016 in a ground-floor shop off the Belconnen town centre, with one hydraulic table, a second-hand bath and a book with four dogs in it. Robyn had been grooming other people's dogs for sixteen years by then, most of it in salons that ran on a clock: eight dogs in, forty minutes each, dryers roaring in cages down the back. She was good at that work and she disliked nearly all of it, because the dogs that needed the most time were the ones given the least, and the frightened ones got written up as difficult.
The name came from a client's blue merle collie cross called Pepper. Her owner rang us in a panic and said she had gone to move the mop in the laundry and the mop had wagged at her. Pepper's coat had felted into one solid piece across her back and it took two of us most of a morning to get her comfortable again. When she walked out with her eyes visible for the first time in months, her owner burst into tears in the doorway. We wrote Mophead on the booking diary that afternoon and it stuck.
We chose Belconnen because it is full of dogs and short on patience with parking. Our door opens onto a quiet paved courtyard rather than a busy car park, which matters more than people expect: a nervous dog that arrives calm usually stays calm. Bruce, Kaleen, Aranda, Macquarie and Hawker are all a few minutes away, and plenty of our regulars walk here.
The turning point came in our second year. A badly matted spoodle came in and we could not finish him. He had had enough by the two-hour mark, so we sent him home half done and charged for half a groom. His owner told every dog person in Kaleen. That one unfinished job filled our book for a year and it set the rule we still work to: the dog decides when we stop, and you only pay for what was done.
Tahlia joined us the following winter, Marcus after that, and Nadia runs the front and the puppy visits. Four groomers, two dogs in the salon at a time, home before lunch.