The Curse of Paris Hilton

Yesterday, my wife and I and our dogs attended a charity dinner at Jake's, in Portland. This is an annual event to benefit Dove Lewis Animal Hospital. The deal is, the restaurant sets up a tent in the middle of the blocked-off street, and people can bring their dogs and dine. The food is great, you can get drinks, and included in the basic price is a meal for your dog. Including, if you want it, non-alcoholic beer for the pups ...

The rain had stopped, it was pleasant, and we met a friend of ours who brought her pup. There was a pretty good turnout, and the dogs were all well-behaved, though ours ate more than they should have.

At the table next to us were two handsome young women and a girl of maybe ten or eleven, and they had brought their pomeranians. The little girl's looked to be a black mini-pom. The woman I took to be her older sister, had one that was a striking black and gray. And the third woman, a blonde, had a dog that was either palamino or white -- I couldn't tell because the poor animal had been dyed bright pink.

And the dog was not happy about it, either.

Dogs as fashion accessories.

I have to wonder what the woman was thinking. It's bad enough to put silly clothes on a dog, but to color it like an Easter chick?