By Robert Wheatley

From left to right, Kerri Erb and her beagles Frankie and Flora; Bob Wheatley and Goliath; Betsi Schumacher and Otto; Ruth Keefover and Millie

Well it’s officially “Take Your Dog To Work” day and here at the agency we celebrate with gusto. Our dogs are patrolling the halls, searching each other out for some one-on-one nose to _____________engagement. Everyone is on their best behavior and enjoying the camaraderie.

My dog, a gentle giant named Goliath, is a 170-pound Newfoundland who has a habit of stopping traffic wherever he appears because onlookers first think I’m sporting a pet black bear. He’s sitting at the foot of my desk right now, a sort of big furry sentry watching the entrance of my office. If I make a move of any kind to stand up, walk down the hall, flinch, nod or whatever, he’s right there with me never more than a few inches away. My four-legged shadow.

And that in a few words explains the basic premise of our relationship. Never far off. Always with me. Always anxious for interaction. He’s consistent and faithful in that regard more so than most humans I know. I’m sure he has his bad days but for the most part I would characterize him as permanently chipper, good natured and happy. Sure he pleads directly for the tummy scratch or head rub by using his paw to push my arm in the appropriate direction. His head, by the way is seriously the size of a basketball. You wonder at times what’s going on in that brain of his.
It goes without saying we like each other. We have this thing, this sort of unsaid communication that’s always on. He watches me intently for cues on the next thing to do, go or see. So yes, this is a relationship. Pretty solid one at that. I don’t mind getting slimed which is par for the course with a big-jowl Newf. He doesn’t mind getting yanked along during a walk when I don’t have time for the sniff-every-object routine. We hang out.

So I get the pet food business growth juggernaut. I understand the premium-ization of pet food. I know why pets are now family members and accorded the rights and privileges thereof. We love them through our stewardship and care. They reward us with faithful, enduring, calming and uplifting attention. Pet products enable us to convey our love for them. It’s powerful stuff.

Other lifestyle acquisitions fail us routinely. They break. They cease to amuse. Don’t live up to our expectations. Become passé. Their value always tied to the moment of utility or entertainment where they hold court however briefly. Pets endure and transcend all of this. Now if only they could talk.