The Hindu Business Line : China's doting dog-owners

It's the Year of the Dog in China according to the traditional Chinese calendar but for man's best friend it's been less than lucky so far. Rabies scares across the mainland have led to the mass killings of thousands of dogs in an attempt to stamp out the disease and now Beijing has issued a "one dog" policy, the canine equivalent to China's better known "one child policy."

The move comes at a time when the popularity of dogs as pets is soaring in China — the result of higher incomes, greater personal freedom and changes in family structure. But despite this newfound popularity, dogs in China remain caught somewhere in an awkward middle ground between man's best friend and a comforting soup. It's a common sight to see pampered, manicured pooches frolicking with their doting owners just a few feet away from a restaurant where diners chow down on stewed dog meat.

Despite these ambiguities, the social status of dogs is certainly on the up. In a society where not so long ago, raising pets was banned as a bourgeois, capitalist tendency, it is now chic to own one. "Pet fashion designer" is among the list of new professions published last year by China's Ministry of Labour and Social Security.

According to market research firm Euromonitor International, the percentage of dog owners in China increased from 5 per cent in 1999 to 15 per cent in 2004. The company estimates that dog and cat food sales in 2004 reached RMB 1.6 billion, a hefty increase of some 13 per cent over the previous year.

Beijing alone currently has some 300-odd pet care and products shops. At the sybaritic "Royal Canine" store next to the city's Worker's Stadium, customers patiently wait in long lines to give their pets a full dog beauty treatment, including shampoo and blow dry, manicure and gum cleaning. The cost is about $12-25, depending on the size of the dog, in a country where the average monthly wage is still only around $120.

While waiting, customers can peruse an astonishing variety of pet products including natural oatmeal shampoo, tea-tree oil perfume, lace-trimmed couches, and cheddar-cheese flavoured cookies.

Playmates

But the growing popularity of pooches is not simply an urban luxury that accompanies increasing affluence in the context of a booming economy. More than just a status symbol dogs are playmates for the new generation of China's only children. They are also companions for the elderly and for growing numbers of laid-off workers; people who are left behind on the margins of society in China's great leap forward into integrating with the global economy.

In the drive to give the city a facelift before the 2008 Olympics Beijing's urban planners have gone on a wrecking spree. The majority of the historic capital city's distinctive community-oriented neighbourhoods have been torn down and neighbours who have lived next to each other for generations have abruptly been separated and relocated in anonymous high-rises on the city's outskirts.

Isolated from friends, far away from increasingly mobile and busy children, China's elderly are turning to dogs for comfort and love in their old age. It's a similar story for many of the over 25 million laid-off workers who suddenly find themselves in a world where they are redundant.

Sixty-year-old Zhang Gui Lan fusses after her frisky Pug, Xiang Pi, as he frolics around a narrow winding street. "Be careful, Xiang Pi, avoid the bicycles, keep to the side," she anxiously yells out. Xiang Pi was given to her as a gift by her son. "It's changed my life," she beams. "Earlier I was bored and alone. I rarely saw my children. Now Xiang Pi is like my new child."

However, owning a dog is no stroll in the park in urban China, particularly for the less well off. All dogs must have a licence. In Beijing for example, the fee for this licence was originally RMB 5,000 ($600), followed by an additional yearly registration fee of RMB 2,000 ($250). Since late 2003, the initial registration has been reduced to RMB 1,000 ($120) and the annual fee to RMB 500 ($62).

Yet, over 40 categories of dogs including Dalmatians, Terriers, Collies and Labradors remain illegal to own, as they are deemed "dangerous" by city authorities.

Dogged by rules

The latest restriction is the one-dog policy for each family in the capital. This edict is intended to reduce the risk of rabies, a serious public health threat in China. About 961 people died of rabies in the first six months of this year and last year 2,545 rabies-related deaths were reported.

Throughout the heyday of communism from the 1950s to the 1970s regular dog extermination programmes were carried out in the mainland. Canines were seen as a threat to public hygiene and were routinely executed by mobs. That this attitude has not completely died out, even in the China of glittering malls and Starbucks coffee-shops, was evident earlier this year when in July, the local government of Mouding county in southwest China's Yunnan Province killed 54,429 dogs after three people died in a rabies outbreak. All dogs in the area were ordered killed regardless of whether they were strays or pets and without mind to whether or not they had been vaccinated.

This incident was followed by a huge public outcry in China and Internet chat rooms were buzzing with lively debate and angry protests. Several concerned groups filed petitions against the local government's actions, with many even threatening to sue.

Elene Locke, a Hong Konger, recently opened Beijing's first "dog café" where, rather than being served up as food, pooches are placed at the table alongside their owners. She says, "In China it's still not easy being a dog. Even people who own pets sometimes see no problems in eating them." But she feels that animal rights campaigning by her and other likeminded dog-lovers is gradually changing attitudes; as evidenced by the bounding, panting customers that fill her café.

Moreover, even diehard dog meat fans in China tend to distinguish between dogs (usually large sized mongrels) that are meant to be eaten and fall under the generic category of "food dog" or cai gou and dogs like the ubiquitous Pekinese, which are definitely pets.

Growing disparities frame a lot of the analysis surrounding contemporary China. It's no surprise then that for canines as well, there is an increasing distinction between the "haves," and the "have-nots." For some dogs, life is one long spa-treatment. For others, it's nasty and short.