Pink Poodles and Doo-Shaped Cars

I trekked out to one of the biggest pet retail shows in the country, where I got a stroller for my chihuahua—and an inside view of the Pet Marketing Bubble.

Am I a dog person? I leave the television on for my boxer, Olive, and chihuahua, Stella, when I have to run errands. I go out of my way to look for healthy dog treats at $3 a pop. And every day, I set aside 45 minutes of fast walking with the dogs, so they will nap the day away while I work out of the house.

Some would say I am a loving, but not obsessive, pet owner. I don’t dress my dogs, but they can jump on any piece of furniture in the house. I don’t let them grab treats out of my mouth, but Stella sleeps on my head every night. You get the picture.

Even though I have been designing a children’s clothing line since 1993, my San Francisco business partner and I decided to leap into the collar-and-leash market. So off to Las Vegas I went to the Super Zoo trade show—the premier event for manufacturers of all things pet—eager to stand in solidarity with other pet enthusiasts who pull pictures of their animals out of their wallets.

Super Zoo targets retailers and has been in existence for 57 years. The 2007 show was its biggest ever, with 600 exhibitors. In fact, the U.S. pet supplies market has grown to $9.9 billion in 2006. It is projected to be a $15 billion industry in 2011.

At Super Zoo, there are cat people, fish people and reptile people in attendance. But, not surprisingly, this show primarily caters to the dog set. The cat people were walking around with totes that claimed “Cats Rule,” but even they knew the writing was on the wall. Dogs don’t just drool. They dominate the entire industry.

“Do you think we need a stroller for Stella?” I said to my husband on one of my first phone calls home. “They are really cute, and she sometimes gets tired on our walks.” Just like an earthling who gets beamed up into a spaceship, I was caught up in the Pet Marketing Bubble. And I wasn’t coming home until I was fully loaded with dog wigs, nail polish, jumpsuits and, yes, a doggie stroller.

Feeding this economic monster takes agility and quickness, so the booth that carried anti-Michael Vick merchandise was reaping big rewards. But it was the flash of a fully dyed pink poodle that caused me to walk, trance-like, to the Pet Esthé booth. This Japanese company has created an entire sub-industry out of dog-hair maintenance. Fido turning gray? Don’t worry, erase those dog years with instant hair dyes. Boring white poodle? Buy some florescent dyes in orange, lime and fuschia. Tear stains? Can’t have that. Here is the magic potion to put your best face forward.

Some say a dog’s mouth is cleaner than a human being’s. These days, it’s nearly as scrutinized, with teeth-whitening and breath mints for dogs for sale. And if you can’t afford it, the company across the aisle from me will finance your pet’s perfection. Just don’t ask about the interest rate.

Naturally, this was an animal-friendly event. A parade of pets walked (or were pushed in strollers) by their enthusiastic owners. Squares of real grass placed every so often guaranteed a pleasant environment for the pets—and those of us trying to sell our products.

After a few dazzling days of rhinestone collars and bling hair bows, I came back to my senses. I realized that although I talk to my dogs, I will never buy them spa robes and massaging mitts. I could never join the Paw Scouts USA club and sew patches on their scout-like vest commemorating “Fixed and Fine” or “Clean Paws.” And I will never lose my mind enough to pass out a business card in the shape of fake poop. (No kidding.) But I will continue to leave the TV on when I exit the house. Olive and Stella have told me it keeps them calm.

Gerri Mack’s dog-accessories line is Stella & Stevie. She lives in Springfield and often writes for 417 Magazine.

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