Writer Michael Schaffer begins his book, One Nation Under Dog, with a rather interesting observation. I knew that he and his wife had adopted a rescue St. Bernard named Murphy and a cat named Amelia. What surprised me was how much he had learned about the world of pets through his astute initial comments on the state of the pet industry today: “I found something I had never expected when I first glimpsed my dog’s sweet, dopey face: the story of modern America.” Indeed, that is the story he tells us in dribs and drabs: the story of how pets came out of the “doghouse” and into our house, and the way they have become mirrors of ourselves.   

I worked, and still work, as a part-time dog walker/pet sitter on the side. So I was drawn to this book as a way of filling in gaps in my own knowledge. In my experience, dogs now reflect us in many ways, and I see that in my dogs’ “moms” and “dads.” (I used to say “owners,” but as Schaffer notes, that is no longer acceptable among my clientele! The dogs have gone from man’s best friends to “fur babies.”) He also points out during his visit to the 2008 Pet Expo in San Diego that there’s an enormous market for the wares on sale at this retailing Mecca. Petco, PetSmart, and smaller boutique owners all attend in the hopes of buying products to keep up the pet industry, which at this point has reached at least $43 billion dollars. Products on sale include kosher dog treats, dog and cat mineral water, pet strollers for toy dogs, grooming services, acupuncture, and pet diapers. I don’t think any of my personal clients have gone off the deep end, but they certainly could here!

Pet boutiques are trying to survive and carve out a niche for themselves by offering products unavailable in chain stores that are trying to push them out of business. Since the 2007 melamine scandal in the USA and China, followed by the recall of animal food, buyers are becoming much more careful. Some are trying out meals like Bravo!s raw frozen food diet or WholeMeals, a meal that looks like a bone with three sides. The latter has a hard outer shell and a meaty inner core. A dog takes time to eat it, thus simulating those meals that were made of bones and meaty marrows on the scrap heap thousands of years ago. As Schaffer so astutely remarks: “Commercially, [this] new food seemed to hit that sweet spot [owners want] between atavism, solipsism, and anthropomorphism. It mirrored how wild dogs ate, it was convenient for pet owners, it was good for the dogs bones and teeth—didn’t you owe your sweet special fur baby that much?” These days, we want to eat non-processed foods, experience no muss no fuss with our dog’s dinners, and maintain our pups’ health as we do our own.

With fewer marriages and more divorces, empty nesters, an increasing number of single people, and more transience, pets have come to take a place among our lives as beloved family members. They started off 15,000 years ago sneaking scraps from our nomadic hunter-gatherer trashpiles. Descended from wolves, they evolved from those who were less frightened of us. Along the way, they developed more infantile, soft-faced characteristics to attract us and draw our attention. As Schaffer points out, with the advent of social networking, they have become wonderful ways of meeting other humans. Web sites bring together Chihuaha and other groups in New York City for birthday parties and other such over-the-top celebrations. Some networkers get paid work out of it in throwing showers and parties for pooches, but in reality, the human owners get as much out of socializing with each other as the dogs do.

To show how far their influence has spread, we even make dogs “fashionistas.” During New York Fashion week, there is a parallel Pet Fashion Week that offers luxury coats, smart red tartan outfits, and other such overpriced folderols. Yet again, they mirror our American needs and desires to lead an upscale lifestyle. I have to admit myself that I created a harness studded with pink rhinestones for an A-type personality named Lucy, a black pug with inordinate self-confidence and a playful disposition. (It was necessary. Trust me on this one. I now call her Lucy Gaga.)  

Shaffer’s book also takes a new look at veterinary medicine for animals. As people have moved away from general practitioners towards specialists, they expect the same for their pets. Even Big Pharma has taken an interest, creating drugs for separation anxiety and a doggie version of Prozac (Reconcile). At human hospitals, vets have learned new procedures for prolonging life in dogs with cancer and other difficult illnesses at such well-respected places as University of Pennsylvania’s Matthew J. Ryan Veterinary Hospital and New York’s Animal Medical Center. Such procedures using medical devices like shunts and stents are not cheap, but they’re worth it to loving owners who consider pets members of the family. Schaffer also visits Amish country, where surprisingly enough, puppies are often sold as part of the traditional puppy mills. There many live in small, dirty cages with wire floors, after which they are shot when they are no longer useful as breeders. Luckily, with help from other activists, pet-loving officials like Pennsylvania Governor Ed Rendell have taken measures to stop such cramped, illegal breeding.

The author also takes a look at popular and difficult-to-chew dog toys such as Everlasting Treat Balls and Kongs, which can keep dogs occupied while their family is working and at school. In touching on dog walkers, he also speaks about me. I used to do that as a temporary job and still do it for a few special clients. Evidently there is a myth of the $100,000 dog walker, but I can’t say that I’ve seen any evidence of it! Maybe New York City would be a better place to find her. All I can say is that sometimes there is nothing better than taking a dog down to a park for a walk when the weather is beautiful. Schaffer also mentions the war between a) the dog trainers who reward their pups with treats and b) the Cesar Millan school, which bases its training on keeping the dog a cognizant part of the pack structure. I’m going with Cesar on this one; I don’t think dogs should have to have a treat to come when they’re called. I also think that keeping them as well-loved dogs rather than furry humans is a better method, despite my own urges to cuddle and caress.

One of the most poignant moments in this book occurs when the author listens in on a support group for those who have recently lost their pets. Although we have taken pets into our homes and hearts, there is still no adequate societal way to grieve for them. He tells the story of a woman who had a slightly ailing cat for 13 years through 10 home and three city moves. The week before she was to be married, he disappeared. She put up the flyers, posted the ad in Craigslist, and did everything she could in that amount of time, but everyone, including her fiancé, urged her to carry on with the honeymoon. She came to the bereavement group because she did not know where else to go, particularly when major religions do not allow that animals have souls that would allow them a place in heaven. Schaffer calls this disenfranchised grief. Others who have lost pets feel the same way, and it seems a great pity that societal outlets, including houses of worship, cannot come up with a better way of managing their constituents’ sorrow.

Finally, Schaffer returns to his original point: “Pets, and how we treat them, are a public reflection of our deepest individual values.” After considering our human urges to love our families, stay upwardly mobile, and give ourselves the best medical and nutritional care possible, I’d have to agree with him.  

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