DOG*matic

An earlier version of this story appeared in Voice of the Hill, April 2005.


You know, a few years ago I realized I was probably the only person on the Hill without a dog. Everywhere I looked there were pooches frolicking, wagging, slobbering, barking, meeting friends for lunch on Tunnicliffe’s patio. Don’t get me wrong. I love dogs and really wished I had one myself until I discovered that owning a dog is a whole lot different now from when I was a kid. (You remember, back when dogs slept right on the floor and the pooper-scooper was your Dad’s lawnmower?) Today you need a diploma from the “right” obedience school, regular trips to the grooming salon (because god forbid your pup has guck in its teeth), hypo-allergenic doggie beds, and of course, low carb, vegetarian, or even kosher pet food. The same brand of Dr Ballard’s in a can every night just ain’t gonna cut it any more for today’s “well socialized” dog.

This whole thing started for me in March 2005 when I spent a weekend in New York celebrating my birthday with some urgently needed retail therapy. To my surprise, almost everywhere I went there were dogs – on the street, in coffee shops and hotel lobbies, and even in the Barney’s mother ship where some crazed woman was dragging around the teeniest dog-like critter (and that is being overly generous) as a fashion accessory. It was on a long pink leash and was trying to scurry around the very crowded aisle near the concierge desk, just like it was at home (and in hindsight, I think Barney’s may have been its second home.) I was horrified that someone was going to accidentally squash it with their $1,800 four- inch heeled, suede designer winter boots and no one would even notice. This got me wondering: did that go on in DC too? Had Capitol Hill become over-run with designer pets and child surrogates of the four legged kind and I hadn’t even noticed? On my return to DC, I decided to set up an independent, non-partisan research study to check out a dog’s life on the Hill.

My research officially began at Lincoln Park, the former 24 hour-a-day full service drug market. I lived in that ‘hood for five years in the late 1990s and let me tell you that back in the day, the local wildlife trended more to closer to the ground hungry little critters with long tails, if you catch my drift, than to frisky chocolate labs bounding after tennis balls. In spring 2005, the Park was already Dog Central, the place where many locals went to exercise Fido while making plans for Friday nite.

Dogs definitely were all over the Hill and in big numbers, but anyone who lives on the Hill today surely will testify to the shift in demographics both human and animal in and around Lincoln Park. On any given day now, you will find mostly mommies, daddies, or nannies pushing kids in baby strollers, and laughing at their happy waggy-tailed dogs. Frisbees are flying, dogs are rolling in the grass, and kids are squealing with total delight at the spectacle (well, the playground with the cool monkey bars and sandbox doesn’t hurt either.) It is the picture of the American Dream sans white picket fence. In the early evening the crowd changes slightly as the single working people come out to walk their dogs and catch up with the local gossip. Not so many toddlers at this time of day but plenty of joggers and pets jumping up and down as they greet their long lost pals they haven’t seen since at least the day before. There’s a very high energy level which ramps up as more dogs and people join the mix until near dusk when even the dogs want to go home and chill.

There are several of these so-called dog-friendly parks on the Hill now and people seem to be making good use of them. I talked to one woman who flat out told me that she got a dog to meet men. I’m willing to bet the farm (the kennel?) that she is not alone on that front.

As for the dogs, well you’ve just got to see these puppies yourself to believe it. I mean, some of them are better dressed than the human at the other end of the leash. There’s the fluffy little white dog with the Burberry sweater, and the shiny black lab with the matching Coach leash and collar, and once in a while, some really foofoo dog wearing teeny rubber boots. There are far more pit bull looking dogs than there used to be, but the labs and the shaggy tailed dogs definitely are in the majority.

As part of the original research study, I visited Doolittle’s Chateau Animaux at Eastern Market. Ashley and Judy were holding down the fort when I arrived one sunny, warm Saturday afternoon. The store was a tad over stuffed with giant bags of food, vitamins, toys, kennels, breath and gas relief tablets (!), and other unexpected things. Ashley quickly explained that demand for their services (retail and pet grooming) had grown so much over the past few years, they were about to move to their new space on Barracks Row which they have been in now for several years. I looked around and was particularly taken by the mini-couches for pets. Ashley told me they were a hot new item that was about to sell out. Now this was a nice couch. Looked rather plush to me. Immediately I could picture some nattily groomed dog curled up on it in front of a flat-screen TV watching Animal Planet and munching on “Grandma Lucy’s Freeze Dried Meatball Treats” or “Daisy Delight’s Baco Bit Bears.”

On to Pawticulars on 8th Street where I met Jennifer, the Top Dog (it says so on her business card.) This is when things really started to come together for me as I realized that the phrase “it’s a dog’s life” is based in truth. While visiting with Jennifer, I don’t know how many pooches and people came through the store. Not one of them left without buying a treat. On the counter were elaborately decorated doggie cookies shaped like baseballs, donuts, bon-bons, and of course, bones among other shapes. Pawticulars also seemed to do a good business in the doggie birthday field; there was a large cooler with cakes (carob-banana chip, for example) that you can order for Rover’s birthday party. Then again, for the more casual celebration, like for Allie who dropped in on her 5th birthday with “Mom” and “Dad”, there was the giant cookie bone with Happy Birthday written on it. I also met Coffee who came in to get a halter and Bessie who was in the market for a new T-shirt. Jennifer explained that some dogs come in every day for a treat. She suspects that Barney Bush (the former First Dog) had either been in the store or received a gift from there as one day out of the blue in the mail Jennifer received an autographed photo of Barney from the White House. Even in DC’s pet care market, it’s all about the political connections!

I wound up my research at Dog-Ma, DC’s first daycare for dogs. Honestly, I felt like I was in doggie paradise with Dog-Ma’s two huge yards, loads of toys, playhouse, and “swimming” pool. Years before, owner Rebecca was working 14 hour days and traveling often for work. She felt guilty about leaving her dog alone and frankly, was more than a little fed up with her job. In a total shifting of gears, she opened Dog-Ma on Virginia Avenue just past the Marine Barracks. Today this very busy doggie day-care caters to well-behaved, socialized (don’t you love that term?), healthy dogs. Some come every day, some once in a while, and some even vacation at Dog-Ma while their family hits the slopes or lounges at the beach. Since opening Dog-Ma, Rebecca and her staff have cared for thousands of dogs; only one decided that the grass really was greener on the other side of the freeway. That little pup was retrieved unharmed much to everyone’s relief.

While I agree that this is far from a comprehensive study (a moderate government grant or appropriation would have helped, I’m telling you), it does give a glimpse into some of the services and products available to Hill dwellers and their pampered pooches.

On a personal note, I’ve decided that the good news is that I want to come back in my next lifetime as a household pet of a senior Hill staffer whose spouse works at a non-profit, and they have one, maybe two young kids. The bad news is that they probably couldn’t afford a dog by then because pet care costs and expectations are rising rapidly. I’d likely end up in some West Virginia farm chasing cows all day. Charming. Let it be known that I am definitely not a cow pattie kinda gal, even if I were a dog.