The Startup Didn’t Make It—But I Did

From the Unleashing Snout Series: What One Founder Learned When She Walked Away.

What really happens inside a PetTech startup from day one? The late nights, the big wins, the frustrating roadblocks, and the surprising realizations—we're pulling back the curtain on all of it.

Hi, I’m Emma Suarez-Berumen, and I’m the founder of Snout—a PetTech startup on a mission to make dog training more effective, accessible, and deeply connected to real-life moments with our pets. At Snout, we’re building a milestone-based training platform where science-backed techniques meet smart technology, helping dog parents train with confidence and purpose.

Our vision is simple but ambitious: empower every dog owner to build a strong, healthy relationship with their pup through better tools, better guidance, and better outcomes.

In this new blog series, Unleashing Snout, I’ll be sharing the behind-the-scenes story of how we’re building this company from the ground up. Expect honesty, lessons learned, and hopefully a few aha moments along the way. Whether you’re a fellow founder, dog lover, or just curious about what it takes to start something from scratch—we’re glad you’re here.

Let’s dive in.

After dipping my toes into the startup world once before — and walking away with a successful exit — I was ready to dive headfirst into building something new. This time, I wasn’t just joining a team or testing the waters. I was leading it. I had an investor on board from day one, a vision to execute, and a whole lot of confidence fueling the fire.

This was going to work.
This was going to succeed.
I had seen enough, learned enough, and failed enough to know what to expect. Nothing could surprise me now. Right?

Wrong.

The investor who brought me in had a vision of starting a senior care agency. He had connections, experience, and a plan — sort of. What he needed was someone to get the groundwork in place. I was tasked with building the entire foundation: documents, processes, guidelines — all the behind-the-scenes structure that would keep future hires from walking into chaos.

No problem, I thought. I’ve done this before.
Besides, we’d have a team soon. We’d kick off our customer discovery phase, explore real market needs, and wedge ourselves right into a juicy opportunity.

That was the plan.

Until it wasn’t.

As I was finalizing the documents, setting up onboarding processes, and preparing the groundwork, the investor dropped a game-changing directive: it was time to start interviewing. I crafted the questions, got them reviewed, and posted job listings for roles we deemed essential—Marketing, Accounting, Sales—the core team we needed to get this venture off the ground. We locked in salaries and equity splits, expecting this to be the moment our startup would finally come to life.

I began conducting interviews and shared everything with him: notes, recordings, and my suggestions. His response? “Let’s hold off on making any decisions for now. Focus on customer discovery first.” In effect, that meant I was expected to handle customer discovery—and every single interview—alone.

So I did. And let me tell you, the competition in the market was fierce. There were countless competitors, each jostling for a slice of a very narrow space. The customers? They had a lot of opinions and needed a strong reason to switch providers to us.

Throughout this process, the investor kept insisting that we could outperform the competition if we simply threw everything at it—and by that, he essentially meant I should do it all. I became the face of our startup: relentlessly attending events, conducting interviews, trying to get potential customers excited about our brand, and ensuring our name wasn’t lost in the noise. I juggled managing our website, defining our value proposition, and handling everything from IT to design, sales, and partnerships.

For months, I was a one-person army. While I was out there wearing multiple hats, the investor was constantly issuing orders, questioning why we weren’t getting the results he envisioned. I repeatedly told him that I couldn’t sustain this massive workload, especially since I was receiving equity instead of a salary.

I had to manage every administrative detail while pushing forward relentlessly. For a year and a half, I soldiered on. We started generating revenue, but I was utterly spent. 

Exhaustion. 

Frustration. 

Burnout.

I couldn’t help but recall my first startup—remembering the crushing pressure the previous CEO endured, being the sole person holding the fort.

I devoured books on every subject under the sun, yet progress was minimal. Finally, I reached a breaking point. I told him, quite frankly, that I couldn’t do it any longer without a dedicated team and proper support. We exchanged our viewpoints, and he suggested that maybe I needed to go through a program—a structured learning experience—to acquire the skills and knowledge I was lacking.

I needed to learn everything. And fast.
Like, yesterday fast.

I was still young, sure—but if I wanted this startup to succeed, I had to catch up immediately. I was determined to prove to the investor, and honestly, to myself, that I could do this. That I had what it took to turn an idea into a company. To build something real.

So I started researching accelerators.
Of course, there was Y Combinator—but we weren’t quite there yet. We were still at that messy, pre-seed/seed stage, looking for structure, clarity, and traction.

That’s when I found Founder Institute—an accelerator built exactly for early-stage founders like me. It felt like the right place, the right time, the right level.

I applied. I got in.

The program started in two weeks, so I did the most logical thing I could think of: I caught up on the sleep I hadn’t had in the last three years.

While I waited, I attended a few of their webinars. And in every single one, there was a recurring theme:
You have to love what you're doing. You have to believe in the mission. If you're just chasing money, your startup probably won’t make it past year two.

And then—just like that—it hit me.

I didn’t love what I was doing.
I wasn’t passionate about the mission of this startup. I had been pushing forward out of pride, out of pressure, out of fear of failure—but not out of purpose.

So I took a hard look at the past year and a half. The burnout. The pressure. The loneliness. The feeling of fighting for something that didn’t actually light me up.

And I made a decision.

I was going to leave.

I sat down with the investor, told him the truth, and wished him well in his endeavor. We gave it a shot—but it wasn’t right. And with that conversation, the startup we had built quietly came to an end.

But not my journey.

I was still enrolled in Founder Institute. I wasn’t going to waste that opportunity.
I just had to figure out… what was I meant to build instead?

One evening, not long after stepping away from the startup, I found myself sitting on the floor with Luna.

She was curled up next to me, calm for once. And as I looked at her, I remembered everything we had been through. Her separation anxiety. The training attempts. The desperation. The endless internet rabbit holes. The guilt. The exhaustion. The love.

And then, almost like a whisper, I remembered something else:
An idea I had pushed aside somewhere between burnout and survival mode.

What if there was a training app that didn’t just give me a checklist of things to do—but actually understood where I was in my journey?
An app that could track my progress, track Luna’s behavior, and adapt to us.
Something that grew with us.
That said: “Here’s exactly what to do next—based on how you’re doing, and how your dog is responding.”

Not a generic set of instructions. Not a YouTube video that assumes every dog fits the same mold. But a smart, supportive guide tailored to the real-life messiness of dog training—especially with a pup like Luna.

That’s when the clarity came rushing in.
This was the mission I cared about.
This was the problem I wanted to solve.

Because if I had struggled this much—me, someone who devoured every dog training article out there—then I knew there were others out there struggling too. People like me who just wanted to raise happy, emotionally healthy dogs but didn’t know where to start, or what to trust.

That night, Luna didn’t do anything extraordinary. She just laid her head on my lap and sighed. But in that moment, I knew.

I had found my new direction.
And this time, I wasn’t just building a startup.
I was building Snout—for her, for me, and for every dog parent who's ever felt lost and just needed a little guidance.

We will post once a month about the state of our start-up and how it grows. 

• You can check our previous blog about who inspired me to create our PetTech start-up, Snout. 

• Let me know if you want to know more about any story! 

• Perk up your ears for our next blogs: 

• July 28th - When I decided to join a pre-seed accelerator program, and the whirlwind I was in for. 

• August - When we were Sniffing Out the Problem” - Our research, insights, and ICP Interviews 

Subscribe to our newsletter (The Snout Print) 

• We publish every three weeks. 

• We announce events we’re organizing, pet industry news, and training tips 

• Take part in our doggy challenges and find out who our winner was for the month

• Participate in our product and help us shape it! 

• Go to thesnoutapp.com to subscribe. 

Join our closed community

• Join our telegram community where we’re building a community with dog parents where you can talk with fellow dog parents and share funny stories or even ask for help when you need it. 

• Participate in our doggy challenges + prizes and help us test ideas, name things, and give feedback! 

• Go to thesnoutapp.com to join :) 

Keep your ears up for more to come

Micromanaged, Underpaid, and Overcaffeinated: A Startup Love Story

From the Unleashing Snout Series: This Wasn’t in the Pitch Deck - Lessons from early-stage trenches.

What’s it really like to build a PetTech startup from scratch?
The long nights, the little wins that feel huge, the unexpected hurdles, and the moments that make it all worth it—we’re pulling back the curtain to share it all.

Hi, I’m Emma Suarez-Berumen, founder of Snout, a PetTech startup on a mission to make dog training smarter, more accessible, and rooted in real-life moments between dogs and their humans. At Snout, we’re building a milestone-based training platform that blends science-backed techniques with adaptive technology—so pet parents can train with clarity, confidence, and compassion.

Our vision is bold but simple: to help every dog owner build a stronger bond with their pup using better tools, better guidance, and better outcomes.

In our new blog series, Unleashing Snout, I’ll be sharing the behind-the-scenes journey of starting this company—from the messy beginnings to the aha moments. Whether you’re a fellow founder, a dog lover, or just curious about what it takes to start something new—we’re so glad you’re here.

Let’s get into it.

A while ago, I was recruited by a person in marketing who used to work in BIC (the pen company). 

She saw an opportunity in medical tourism for bariatrics and plastic surgery between the states of Texas, Nevada, New Mexico, and, of course, California. 

She needed a co-founder in charge of the financials and administrative logistics. This was my first startup, and I was quite young and eager to be a part of something from the beginning. 

Our team consisted of 2 sales representatives, 1 video editor, 1 IT, a marketing intern, me in the financial/accounting department, and her as the leader. 

I was really excited because someone was taking a chance on me, and I was not going to let it go by. 

Little did I know the ride I was going to be in. 

Chaos! Chaos all around! 

The more we moved forward, the messier it got. 

Our office space was no bigger than a broom closet. I wish I were kidding. I think my bathroom was bigger than our “great office space.” 

Since the space was so tight and I had to handle cash, I suggested my desk be at a corner so I could set my briefcase and my body as a barrier, mind you, I’m a 5’4” 110lbs woman, so you can imagine how much space I covered. 

Everything started fine, we were all sharing ideas and figuring out ways to try and find our voice, our secret sauce. 

As time went on, our CEO started feeling pressure from other investors, so in turn, she pressured us and started micromanaging. 

There was a point where she asked me to bring the Income Statement, Balance Sheet, and Cash Flow to her during an investor meeting. Little did I know that something was brewing underneath that simple ask. 

When I brought the statements, she asked to change the margin width and the color. So I did. 

The second time I brought it to her, she asked to change the color and the printing format. 

The third time I brought it to her… I don’t even remember what she asked me to change; all I remember was that I was frustrated because the changes were irrelevant, the content was right, and she kept on changing nuances, mind you, this was in front of the investors and other leaders. 

I later realized that she was just making a “demonstration of her leadership” skills to them, and showing how we, as a team, follow her direction without question. The thing is, I am not one to stay silent when I don’t understand the purpose behind a decision. So in front of everyone, I dared to ask… 

“Do you have any concerns regarding the numbers?” 

“No,” she said. 

“The format I’m using is standard. Do you wish me to switch to another format so it's easier for you to read?” 

“No, I don’t think so. The format looks good and I can read the numbers just fine, actually,” she said. 

“Awesome! Thank you for telling me that! And the colors are fine, or do you still wish me to change to another set of colors?” I said. 

She responded, “You know what, for the sake of time, let’s leave it like that. We’ll talk about the format later.” 

“Alrighty! Let me know when. Have a nice day, everyone.” I said to the whole table. 

That ‘later’ never came, and she just acted like nothing happened. Water under the bridge, I thought.    

Instances like these kept on repeating more often, and it wasn’t just with me; it was with all of the team. She would make us redo small things that weren’t to her liking. Her excuse? She has the eye of the marketer, so she must know what it should look like and sound like. Because the eye of the marketer is more important than our customers, got it! 

The one that made me go over the edge was when she would micromanage how I worked the numbers on the Excel sheet (even though I was using standard formatting). She insisted I use the format she was familiar with, even though the method was archaic and needed the stars and the moon to align. 

Her argument? “I need to be able to read them so I can take over in any case you get sick or cannot proceed with the work.” 

Huh? 

I came up with the brilliant idea of using an accounting software such as QuickBooks or Fresh to handle our finances more efficiently, easy to read, and a lot less likely to commit an error on Excel (if you’ve ever used Excel as a large database, you know exactly what I’m referring to). Excel is great for explaining numbers, not so great with handling large data; one error can mess up months of work! 
She denied my request and moved forward with the arcane way. 

Yours truly is not so easily beaten, so I made a campaign to push for an SQL database to easily handle data.

The campaign consisted of showing the cost analysis of myself and the whole team. The work, time, and money it would take the whole team to document their data with the current method vs. the method I was trying to implement. I showed her how much it could initially cost us, how the learning curve would take place, and the money saved after implementation. I led the campaign for about 3-4 months, I sounded like a broken record, and the progress was minimal. It wasn’t until I very, VERY, discreetly mentioned it in front of an investor. As soon as I got the investor on board, SUCCESS! 

Putting our differences aside, we were doing quite well, and the company was truly taking off. 

One day, our CEO gathered all of us for an all-hands-on meeting. She told us that we all did an amazing job and had caught the attention of a plastic surgeon who owned a hospital in Tijuana. He was going to buy our company and merge us with his hospital! She said she was able to negotiate terms that would benefit all of us, whether we wanted to stay or leave. We were all so excited!

After the meeting, she pulled me aside and told me she wished to buy my share. She pointed out that I can now have the time and freedom to do whatever I want.

Again, huh? 

I told her I needed time to think about it. We agreed on two months. 

Then the pandemic came.

We went into remote work, and I started perceiving a little more hostility towards my work, my time, my ethics, etc… 

So I decided to leave. 

I wasn’t going to work in a hostile environment, much less be in a place where I was not wanted. 

I could argue that I could’ve stayed, but it wasn’t like my long hours and headbutting with the CEO were all for nought. 

We had an exit, and I was compensated for it! Also perfect time with the pandemic and all. 

From this experience, I gathered a couple of lessons: 

• Start-ups are brutal, horrible, you have no idea which way is up, and sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel seems foggy. 

• Due to the uncertainty and the need to wear many hats, this can make you and the team feel frustrated, and tensions may run high. Especially if the Happy Hour is just another regular meeting, with just a different title.  

• The stress of being in charge of a whole company can allow anxiety to creep in, and the lack of control over the future can push a person to become a micromanager, attempting to control whatever they can. 

And the truth is, I loved every single moment of it.

 Shortly after, I was recruited by an investor in California who wanted to start a senior referral agency and wanted me to take the lead! 

I said YES! 

Now, I’m not trying to romanticize this at all! If you take anything from this, it is that nothing in life is easy. You can trade one experience for another.   

You have to decide if the good completely outweighs the bad at the end of the day. Sure, there was days were I wished I could be anywhere but here and sometimes I felt like, excuse my french, shit and a complete loser becasue I was stuck and could not find a way forward no matter how much I worked. But for me, this is enough, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here. 

The story is not over yet! We’re in the prequel of how we came to the idea of starting Snout, our PetTech Startup. 

We will post once a month about the state of our start-up and how it grows. 

• You can check our previous blog about who inspired me to create our PetTech start-up, Snout. 

• Let me know if you want to know more about any story! 

• Perk up your ears for our next blogs: 

•  July 21st - My experience at a healthcare startup and how it was to be the CEO and feel the pressure of Investors 

• July 28th - When I decided to join a pre-seed accelerator program, and the whirlwind I was in for. 

Subscribe to our newsletter, The Snout Print.  

• We publish every three weeks. 

• We announce events we’re organizing, pet industry news, and training tips 

• Take part in our doggy challenges and find out who our winner was for the month

• Participate in our product and help us shape it! 

• Go to thesnoutapp.com to subscribe. 

Join our closed community

• Join our telegram community where we’re building a community with dog parents where you can chat and share funny stories, or even ask for help when you need it. 

• Participate in our doggy challenges + prizes and help us test ideas, name things, and give feedback! 

• Go to thesnoutapp.com to join :) 

Keep your ears up for more to come 

Snout’s Origin: From Luna’s Anxiety to an Idea Worth Chasing

What really happens inside a PetTech startup from day one? The late nights, the big wins, the frustrating roadblocks, and the surprising realizations—we're pulling back the curtain on all of it.

Hi, I’m Emma Suarez-Berumen, and I’m the founder of Snout—a PetTech startup on a mission to make dog training more effective, accessible, and deeply connected to real-life moments with our pets. At Snout, we’re building a milestone-based training platform where science-backed techniques meet smart technology, helping dog parents train with confidence and purpose.

Our vision is simple but ambitious: empower every dog owner to build a strong, healthy relationship with their pup through better tools, better guidance, and better outcomes.

In this new blog series, Unleashing Snout, I’ll be sharing the behind-the-scenes story of how we’re building this company from the ground up. Expect honesty, lessons learned, and hopefully a few aha moments along the way. Whether you’re a fellow founder, dog lover, or just curious about what it takes to start something from scratch—we’re glad you’re here.

Let’s dive in.

Before Snout was even an idea, there was Chispita (Sparky)— my soul dog.
She was the kind of companion that changes you. Gentle, intuitive, and always one step ahead of how I was feeling, Chispita wasn’t just a pet — she was a quiet force that taught me what unconditional love really looks like. Losing her left a space I didn’t think I could ever fill.

But then came Luna.
Tiny. Fluffy. Adorable. And an absolute menace to society.

Adopting Luna felt like the responsible thing to do. I researched the breed, prepped my home, and convinced myself I was ready. I had dreams of getting a husky, but decided to go with something a little more “manageable” — an American Eskimo. The internet promised me they were eager to please, easy to train, and great for first-time dog owners. Perfect, I thought. What could go wrong?

Spoiler: everything.

From the moment I brought Luna home, it was clear: she was not going to be the easy, eager-to-please companion I had read about. She was beautiful, smart, and deeply willful — stubborn in ways that felt personal. Her separation anxiety wasn’t just a phase. It got worse over time, and I didn’t know where to turn.

I tried everything.

TikToks with 60-second “fixes” gave me hope — until they didn’t. YouTube videos would say, “If your dog does this, then do that.”
But what if Luna didn’t do this? What if she did something else entirely?
Boarding trainers told me she was “difficult” and quoted prices that made me want to cry. And still, I was desperate.

She shredded furniture. She tore at my door frames. I tried crate training — because that’s what they said to do.
She barked. And barked. And barked.
For hours.

My heart raced every time I left the house, terrified my neighbors would file a noise complaint. Or worse — that I’d get evicted. I feared I’d be forced to choose between my home and my dog. And in the pit of my stomach was an even darker fear: what if I had to give her up?

In my inexperience, I thought Luna just needed a friend — someone to keep her company while I was away. So I adopted Pancho, a scrappy little Chihuahua mix I rescued from the streets of Tijuana.

For a moment, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

Until it wasn’t.

Pancho, as it turned out, had his own trauma. He began showing signs of aggression toward other dogs — unprovoked. He got into a terrible fight with an Aussie at the park. (Yes, he started it.) It shook me to my core.

I dove headfirst into more TikToks, more YouTube tutorials — desperately searching for something that worked.
Nothing stuck. So I gave in and paid the boarding trainer fees.

It worked.
But only while he was there.

Back home, Pancho slowly returned to his old behaviors. The calm dog I picked up was a mirage — a product of the trainer, the environment.
Later, I learned that he had associated that behavior with that space and that handler.
But with me? In our apartment? He felt it was his job to protect. He had learned to survive by staying on guard — and now, he thought it was his job to protect me and Luna.

Luna? I failed her.
I never showed her that my leaving — for an hour or two — didn’t mean abandonment. That I would always come back.

And Pancho? I failed him by not showing him that he was safe now. That he didn’t have to be on high alert. That I was the one doing the protecting now — not him.

It broke me. I wasn’t trying to be that neighbor with the barking dogs and constant chaos. I was just trying to raise confident, happy pups — and love them the best way I knew how.

I was at my absolute limit. Exhausted. Defeated. I was majestically failing — like I had let down the very beings I promised to protect. Great. 

Luna, especially, drained every ounce of my energy. Her separation anxiety didn’t just fill the apartment — it spilled out into every corner of my life. The barking, the destruction, the constant dread of another complaint — there’s only so much a space, and a set of neighbors, can take.

I started to wonder if maybe… I wasn’t the right person for her.
Maybe someone with more experience, a bigger home, a backyard, a calmer life — maybe they could give her what she needed.

But then it happened.
In the middle of one of those draining, overwhelming days, Luna looked up at me.

And in her eyes, I saw it: pure, unwavering love.

That’s when it hit me — no one was going to give her the patience I already had. No one was going to fight for her the way I had. And I wasn’t going to risk her becoming another heartbreaking statistic — another misunderstood dog shuffled from one home to another, never truly seen, never truly safe.

So I made a decision.
Not the kind you whisper to yourself half-heartedly — the kind that lives in your bones.

I chose to rise.
To be the person they needed me to be. Not perfect. Not all-knowing. Just present. Committed. Theirs.

Luna and Pancho were my responsibility — not in the legal sense, but in the soul-deep, I-will-not-let-you-down sense.
I couldn’t guarantee what another family might do.
But I could guarantee this:
In my tiny, imperfect home, they would be loved. They would be safe. They would have a place where they belonged.

And slowly — so slowly it almost hurt — things began to shift.

It wasn’t linear. It wasn’t easy. In fact, it often looked like this:
Horrible. Horrible. Horrible.
Then something beautiful.
Then horrible. Horrible. Horrible.
Then something beautiful again.

But those beautiful moments? They were everything.
They were proof that love, patience, and persistence do move mountains — even if it’s one wag at a time.

For a long time, it felt like I was the only one going through this.
Was I just a bad dog parent? Was everyone else’s pup perfectly trained and emotionally balanced while mine tore through walls — literally and figuratively?

I searched for answers, for support, for someone who had been where I was. And every time I came up short, I thought:
Why isn’t there a space for people like us?
Why isn’t there a platform where we can talk honestly about what it’s like to raise dogs like Luna and Pancho — where we can share experiences specific to breeds, temperaments, traumas, and personalities?

That question — that need — became the seed for Snout.

Because if I hadn’t made the decision to keep my girl, to hold on to her when everything felt like it was falling apart, I would’ve never known the ride I was about to take.
I would’ve missed the meltdowns and breakthroughs.
The brutal lows — and the breathtaking highs.
I would’ve missed watching her choose me, again and again, in those small, quiet moments that reminded me why I stayed.

And I would’ve missed the opportunity to build something that could help others stay, too.

Snout isn’t just an app. It’s a support system. A learning hub. A place where dog parents can come as they are — frustrated, exhausted, hopeful — and get real, adaptive guidance that actually understands the dogs they’re raising.

We’re building a future where no pet parent has to feel alone.
Where training is tailored, compassionate, and based on the reality of life with dogs — not just the theory.
Where we grow together. One challenge, one milestone, one wag at a time.

This is just the beginning.
And if you’ve ever felt like the only one — I promise, you’re not.

🐾 Join the Journey — One Wag at a Time

If any part of this story felt familiar — if you’ve ever stared at your dog wondering what now? — you’re not alone. And we’d love to hear from you.

💌 Subscribe to our newsletter, The Snout Print, to stay updated on our dog training app, upcoming events, and behind-the-scenes stories. We’ll be posting once a month about the state of our startup and how it’s growing — sharing every milestone, challenge, and win along the way.

📣 Share your experience. What’s your Luna or Pancho story? What helped? What didn’t? Your voice could shape tools that help thousands of pet parents just like us.

🐶 Join our closed community to connect with other pet parents navigating the ups and downs of dog training, and get direct access to early features, advice, and support.

👂 Keep your ears up — there’s so much more to come.

🐕‍🦺 Follow us on Instagram and be part of a growing community that’s redefining what it means to raise emotionally healthy, well-supported dogs.

Because the future of pet parenting starts with us.
And it starts here.