The pet diary.

12 May 2026 · Kozhikode

The morning three Persians showed up.

The Mathai family booked a grooming slot for one Persian. They brought three. Simba did all the protesting — she's the eldest, and clearly the one with opinions. Mishti, the middle one, slept through her entire bath. And the third sister, a fluffy little surprise named Pearl, turned out to be the calmest of the lot.

It took us four hours and the better part of two team members, but they left looking like three differently-coloured clouds, and Mrs. Mathai brought us a tray of banana fritters the next day. We considered it a fair exchange.

If you're a Persian parent: please book Persian appointments mid-week. Saturday mornings get loud, and Persians, as a tribe, do not negotiate well with loud.

04 May 2026 · All branches

Eid week, forty-two grooms.

By Wednesday morning we had booked out all three branches. Forty-two grooming slots, mostly Labradors and Shih Tzus from families preparing for Eid visits. We added two extra grooming chairs, two extra cuddle blankets, and ordered a small stack of bandanas in moon-and-star prints from a tailor we know in Mukkam.

By Thursday evening every bandana was on a pet. Mrs. Faiza's three-year-old Lab, Bruno, walked out wearing his bandana like a tie. Coco the Shih Tzu insisted on hers being tied as a hairband. We sent every single family a photo, and we got back, by our count, 38 thank-yous and 6 tray-of-sweets deliveries.

Eid is our favourite week of the year. We've already started saving for next year's bandana batch.

22 April 2026 · Nilambur

A cat called Mochi who refused the bath.

Mochi arrived at our Nilambur branch in a carrier so small we wondered how he'd been packed in. British Shorthair, eight months old, weighing roughly the same as a small watermelon, and refusing — vocally — to look at water.

Aiswarya, who handles cat grooms, did what she always does on day one: she didn't bathe him. She gave him a clean towel to sit on, dry-brushed him for fifteen minutes, fed him three Whiskas pouches, and sent the family home with a tip: come back next week, no rush.

Mochi came back the following Saturday. He still didn't love the bath, but he tolerated it, and a month later he walked in on his own paws. He's now one of our regulars. Aiswarya keeps a tiny photo of him pinned above her station.

Lesson, repeated: every cat is a slow build. We never push.

15 April 2026 · Kozhikode

The lady who came in for kibble, stayed for a job.

Early in 2025, soon after we opened, Mrs. Saritha walked into our Kozhikode store to buy kibble for her newly-rescued Indie. She watched us recommend a Royal Canin formula, walk her through the switch-over, and gently turn down a parent who wanted a bag too big for their puppy. She came back the next week, alone, and asked if we needed help at the counter.

She runs our Kozhikode store now. She knows every regular's pet by name. If you call our main number and a calm, slightly amused voice picks up — that's her.

The point of this entry: we don't really "hire". People decide to join, and we make space.

02 April 2026 · Kozhikode

A five-year-old, two budgies, one big decision.

A small boy came in with his father one Tuesday afternoon. His father wanted to buy a pair of budgies. The boy, very seriously, asked us: "What if they don't like me?"

We walked him through it. We let him sit by the cages for twenty minutes, we showed him the difference between a calm bird and a stressed one, and we told his father, gently, to think about it for another week. Birds are a long commitment, especially with a small child in the household.

They came back the following Saturday. The boy had a sketchbook of bird names. They left with two budgies, a starter cage, and a feeding schedule taped to their kitchen wall. We still see them — the boy mostly, picking out seed every other week.

If we sell you a pet, we'd rather you take a week to be sure. Always.