Happy fifth birthday to Lola the chocolate cockapoo!
Lola's human father (I've met her canine father, an affable apricot miniature poodle named Elmo and her mother, a gorgeous Black Cocker spaniel named Gracie) bemoaned the closure of downtown's Three Dog Bakery. No "pupcake" this year. He would have to scramble find a substitute canine-oriented confectionery.
Twenty-first century dogs don't know how good they have it. Back in the day -- most of the twentieth century -- most owners didn't celebrate their dogs' birthdays. The lucky one received a box of Liv-a-Snaps with a string of ribbon.
Now, owners -- or "parents" as many prefer to be called -- organize dog parties with carob-and-peanut-butter flavored cakes. They purchase their birthday canines faux Shearling jackets at L.L. Bean or NFL dog jerseys. Designer hemp collars or American Kennel Club (AKC) honking mallards or "green planet beaver" toys. Forget your dog's birthday and Gladys Kravitz will report you to the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA) and the local humane society. Or worse, yet KING-5 news. Do you want to explain to Jessse Jones why you didn't make it to Fido N-Scratch, Dog Mania or Ideal Pets in time for The Big Day?
Life was a lot simpler in the Nixon and Clinton eras.
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