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The cake is homemade, decorated with HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SOPHIE in gloppy red icing. We gather around the 4-year-old and sing the birthday song, but the camera isn't ready, so we sing again. Cake comes with assorted flavors of ice cream. Sophie's friend Duncan grabs from another little guest's plate, and the adults make them share. When it's finally time to open gifts, Sophie's too pooped to care.
Sophie's not a party animal. But she is a dog, as are Duncan and half the guests at the fete arranged by Doggie Heaven, a Seattle bakery and boutique for canines. I'm visiting my hometown after several years of living in Hong Kong, and I'm stunned by the contrast, at least so far as it involves pups. In parts of Asia, many people still prefer to cook a dog than pet it. But in America, man's best friend has never had it so good.
Dogs have moved from the doghouse into the master bedroom. In fact, these days they do everything we two-legged Americans do: wear tuxes to weddings, go to day care run by people with M.A.s in educational psychology, loiter at bookstores, swallow Chinese medicine and omega-3 vitamin supplements. Friends of mine take allergy pills so their Labrador can sleep in their bed. He accompanied them to a Halloween party dressed as a dragon, and on his 2d birthday he got $100 worth of toys, cake and flank steak.
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Such canine coddling seems to have attained new heights since I last visited Seattle. Here, I discover, it's no longer P.C. to be a dog's "owner," let alone "master." Dogs are now "family." This weird transmogrification from beast to near human undoubtedly owes something to the fact that more Americans are deciding to stay single these days, or else not to have children. A tail-thumping golden retriever is a terrific stand-in for kiddies (cute, slobbers, needs potty training, pitter-patters behind you) or a spouse (will lick your face, cuddle and go on long walks with you when you're feeling blue). And as Americans live more impersonal lives, working at home and communicating over the Internet, dogs are a natural go-between. "So many people just look at dogs and smile," says Eileen, a married lawyer I know who cooks turkey soup, broccoli and hamburger for her dogs and is learning doggie CPR.
Only half her friends think she's nuts. The rest, like her, don't bat an eye at New Age pet-food catalogs that read like Gourmet: venison sausage, rosemary-garlic marinade, free-range chicken, baked goods with blueberries and apples, customized to various diets from hypoallergenic to kosher and low-fat. At downtown Seattle's Three Dog Bakery, the goodies look so good that you drool. Real folks are lured in, only to find Pup Cakes and Snickerpoodles. For Christmas the bakery sold snowman cookies, too, and they hosted a visit from Santa.
Rex and Abby came to see him. Rex the retriever wriggled and Abby the spaniel drooled, but Santa hugged them nonetheless while a photographer snapped their pix--for $25. "These are my children," says Diana, their owner. (Oops, "mother.") She sent the photos out as holiday cards. Rex would get a Christmas stocking full of wrapped gifts. "He has such fun ripping them open," Diana explains. For Abby she was considering a $24 Liz Claiborne sweater, though not the $265 Ralph Lauren cashmere coat.
Yep, Christmas is the season for conspicuous canine consumption. At the end of last year an entire pooch-pampering industry unleashed its products in places like Doggie Heaven. (Not to mention the more upscale department stores.) Is Fido bored? Get him the Bubble Buddy, which spews bacon-scented bubbles. He has one already? Then how about a steel, Alessi-look eating dish for $40, an aromatherapy candle or a bagel-shaped plush toy called Chewish Treat? More holidayish, there's a nice pillow embroidered in needlepoint and reading, SANTA, I'VE BEEN A GOOD DOG!
Sophie's two-legged family is rather strict and frowns upon such fancy nonessentials, so her birthday presents are things like breath-freshening bones. Still, compared with previous canine generations, Sophie has a rich life of interactive toys, beach vacations and snowshoeing with her family. I leave her party feeling a bit envious. But maybe I shouldn't be amazed at how my country's gone to the dogs, since it's being promoted from the top. First Dog Barney, the Bushes' Scottish terrier, has filmed a holiday video giving his dog's-eye view of the festively decorated White House.
Surfing the radio on the drive home from the party, I hear a woman's soothing voice discussing stress relief. "Emily's our worrier," a man says, seeking advice on how to help her chill out. Try massage, the woman purrs.
Emily, it turns out, is a German shepherd.
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