For dogs in many countries, the phrase “a dog’s life” means just that. In Britain, however, the animal has acquired an elevated domestic status that leaves many foreigners bewildered. There are nine million dogs being kept as pets in the UK, and a report by the insurance company Direct Line confirms what we already knew – that “man’s best friend” has become master of all they survey.
According to the survey, UK citizens spend more than £1 billion (Dh5.18bn) a year on canine accessories for their faithful friends. Items included bespoke dog suits, fur-lined bootees and even luxury dog beds retailing at up to £700. Add to this sum the pedicures, manicures and shampoo-and-sets on offer at many canine grooming parlours, and you can get some idea of just how much we care.
And it’s not just money that Britons are lavishing on them. Over 50 per cent of those questioned in the survey admitted they’ve kissed their dog on the lips in recent years, while another 23 per cent admitted to allowing their pets to eat from the same plate. Nearly all confessed to allowing their dog to sleep on their beds or talking to them in baby language.
None of this will come a surprise to my friends Barry and Eileen. They’ve recently purchased Lottie, a labradoodle, and at a stroke, their lives have changed forever.
This curious canine confection, one half labrador, one half poodle, would once have been called a mongrel, but with the simple addition of this exotic moniker breeders have been able to charge people like Barry and Eileen many hundreds of pounds for the animal. She is, after all, no longer any old mutt, but a designer dog. That’ll be £700 please.
And what a life she leads. Lottie has her own Burberry dog basket and is surrounded by an array of playthings sufficient to rival a toy shop. Her meals consist of a specially formulated labradoodle mixture (with a price tag five times that of a can of basic dog food to match). And as for mealtimes, Lottie is allowed – indeed – is expected, to lick all the dinner plates before they’re cleaned. Indeed, guests are invited to watch this revolting ritual by her owners as if Lottie were riding a unicycle rather than doing what all dogs will do naturally, given half a chance.
“Isn’t she clever” squeals Eileen as Lottie stands on the open door of the dishwasher and wolfs down several litres of congealed gravy. After which, she spends her evenings swathed in rugs on the sofa watching TV (apparently, Downton Abbey is her favourite programme).
And of course, if Lottie ever does fall ill, there’s no shortage of medical expertise to come to her aid as Barry and Eileen have taken out private pet insurance. Thus Lottie will be assured of the finest that medical science can provide, including open-heart surgery, cancer treatment, cataract removal and even (for labradoodles are apparently prone to arthritis) hip replacements, all of it in state-of-the-art veterinary clinics.
While nobody would deny Barry and Eileen (and millions like them) their right to spend money as they choose, the irony of the situation is all too obvious. For in a country where the National Health Service is stretched to breaking point, and where people often have to wait months for treatment due to shortage of funds and specialist equipment, many dogs have effectively a better chance of swift medical intervention than their owners.
The head of Direct Line pet insurance, Prit Powar, tried to put some perspective back into proceedings by pointing out in the survey that all a dog really needs to live a healthy, happy life, is food, water, exercise and love.
But for Barry or Eileen, and millions like them, it’s too late. Their dog is a virtual child. Indeed, in many ways Lottie is better than a child, for she comes when she’s called, obeys their commands, and doesn’t keep asking them for money so she can go to the movies with her mates.
And what’s more, if she ever gets pregnant, they can sell her babies.
Michael Simkins is an actor and writer in London
On Twitter: @michael_simkins
