Some shopkeepers put in a solid 40 hours along Central Avenue, even if, truth be told, they sleep on the job and care more about getting strokes than racking up sales.
By DONNA SELF
Published May 12, 2004
ST. PETERSBURG - One dog on Central Avenue wears a fake fur jacket. Another used to trot to the corner every day to mooch a hot dog from the corner vendor - dog eat dog.
Then there's Fred, a bassett hound that likes to stick his droopy face into dressing rooms while women are changing.
All along the downtown stretch of Central, shop dogs are showing up, in punk rock places and in fancy home decor shops. At least a dozen business owners bring their dogs to work.
Shop owners say this allows them to spend time with their pets and creates a comfortable atmosphere in their business. Customers usually warm to their presence.
But don't count on them as watchdogs. Speckle-coated Sabine at Bliss, a tea room and gift shop at 402 Central, does not work security.
"She let someone come in and steal our purses one day," reports Rosemary Fox, who does tarot readings in the tea room.
Sabine's strength is customer relations.
"She's our customer greeter," said Bonny Ludwig, co-owner of Bliss. Just as these words come out of Ludwig's mouth, the shop's door opens and Sabine, who weighs about 70 pounds, pulls herself to her feet and saunters over to say hello.
"Customers love her," Ludwig said. "They bring her treats and toys. A man shared his ice cream cone with her yesterday. I tell her I could have sold her a thousand times over and been a gazillionaire by now."
A few people, of course, aren't happy to see a dog when they walk into a business.
Rob Coffey, owner of Classic Rattan and Wicker, at 645 Central, admits that a couple of his customers were less than thrilled to see Oliver, a soulful-eyed beagle who looks like he went a little heavy on the mascara.
"This guy and his wife came in to buy some chairs, and he told me I needed to put my dog up because his wife was afraid of dogs," he said. "I told him that I guessed we wouldn't be able to do business because this was Oliver's store. He put his wife in the car and came back in and bought the chairs."
"He's my best friend," Coffey said. "And otherwise, he'd just sit at home and get no exercise. Dogs need to feel as if they have a job, and this is his job."
Betty Masar, owner of Woodie's Hat Box at 655 Central Ave., has to watch out for ardent admirers of Daisy, a long-haired Chihuahua and rat terrier mix.
"There is a man named Sal who comes by here a lot," she said from beneath a snapshot of Sal holding Daisy. "He always says something like, "I hear you have a dog for sale,' or "You know I'm going to steal that dog."'
Masar has several photos of tiny Daisy, in different outfits, on her shop walls, posing with different people.
"She has more clothes than most children," Masar said, showing off a wee rhinestone-encrusted tiara with holes for Daisy's ears to poke through. The dog has two fleece jogging suits, at least eight sweaters, a T-shirt that says "Rough Stuff," and a royal blue windbreaker with a furtrimmed hood - faux fur, of course.
"One of my customers brought her in a little white fake-fur jacket with brown spots," Masar said.
Annelie Hardwick, owner of Dixiana, a clothing and gift shop, said customers love her Maltese-Chihuahua mix, Romeo, so much it can be bad for business.
"They come in here and play with him for an hour, and they forget to buy something," she said.
Romeo, who is said to have "a lot of fire" and will urinate only on the sports pages or Ann Landers' column, comes to work with Hardwick if things aren't going to be too hectic at the store.
"He can really be a handful," she said, shaking her head.
Some store owners' pets are so incorrigible they just can't be trusted in the shop.
Susan Riggs, co-owner of Star Booty, a vintage and punk clothing store and hair salon, has three basset hounds, Fred, Sally and Woober. Though Sally and Woober get to come in fairly often, Fred must stay home.
"Fred is a crazy fool," she said. "The girls will stick around me, but he is everywhere, into everything. He'll run out the door if I'm not looking, or he'll go into the dressing room while someone is changing."
Possibly the most well-known dog on Central Avenue, Colby, a shaggy golden retriever that belonged to Star Booty co-owner Mimi Peterson, died late last year at age 12.
Fitting for a true rock 'n' roll salon dog, he was put to rest at home by a holistic veterinarian, who, clad in leather, arrived on a motorcycle.
Colby used to come to work every day with Mimi, and he became known among business owners and customers alike.
"He used walk down to the corner every day and the vendor would give him a hot dog," said Coffey, of Classic Rattan and Wicker. "He was a good old soul."
Hardwick, the Dixiana owner, thinks animals make a statement about people.
"I think having a pet in a store says that people are good and they aren't worried about a little hair," she said. "I've seen people who didn't seem to like my dog, but I'd rather have my dog in my store than them."
