Unfortunately, in a crowded country it is difficult to own a pet dog. And yet, Japanese dogs are surely the most pampered in the world - see here and here for examples in previous posts.
Not only are they the best-dressed animals, but also they are the most shampooed ("Dog Stylist" in Japan, unlike elsewhere, is a regular job, not limited to overly-rich areas), massaged, best-fed (you can now get biscuits that the owner and dog can share), and probably most expensive non-racetrack creatures anywhere.
So, with such pent-up demand, and serious physical limts on ownership, the logical business model has to be ...
... a dog cafe - ("Will you not play with us?")
Given that dog cafes ("Inu Cafe") are perhaps the coolest trends in Japan, the very cutting edge, I feel that it is imperative that we check out the Bow Wow Relaxation of Dog's Gallery.
The front looks promising, with hand-drawn invitations to play with some dogs, get your dog shampooed, or even buy a dog ($1000 starting price).
Given that dog cafes ("Inu Cafe") are perhaps the coolest trends in Japan, the very cutting edge, I feel that it is imperative that we check out the Bow Wow Relaxation of Dog's Gallery.
The front looks promising, with hand-drawn invitations to play with some dogs, get your dog shampooed, or even buy a dog ($1000 starting price).
We go up the stairs, decorated with this guy:
"DOG", says he. "Let's play with us!"
The front bit is a regular dog shop. Slightly unfortunate that Japanese dogs are have so much attention lavished upon them, but then are stuck in glass boxes of chicken-cage dimensions most of the time. Perhaps this helps get them out of the door.
Now, here is the deal. You sit down at a table in this open space, and the dogs are supposed to come to you, not the other way around. I don't see how you would be able to anyway, as they all have been, judging by their excitement, winning the lottery while smoking crack cocaine.
The front bit is a regular dog shop. Slightly unfortunate that Japanese dogs are have so much attention lavished upon them, but then are stuck in glass boxes of chicken-cage dimensions most of the time. Perhaps this helps get them out of the door.
Now, here is the deal. You sit down at a table in this open space, and the dogs are supposed to come to you, not the other way around. I don't see how you would be able to anyway, as they all have been, judging by their excitement, winning the lottery while smoking crack cocaine.
And here there is a big list of rules that customers are to follow - don't chase the dogs around, don't run around, don't shout, (which no Japanese person would ever think of doing anyway), when you want to hold a dog, tell a staff member (yeah right), and please give biscuits to the dog directly from your hand (whatever).
The place smells of old carpets/dogs, but what you can't see here is that all of them have nappies on! The staff rush around tending to the dogs, who are leaping about, inbetween sniffing one another in certain key areas, and all the while customers are sitting around the sides, half smiling, half wondering why they came to see some hysterical puppies go bonkers.
Sorry, would you mind if I...? Oh, no, not at all, do go ahead...
One interesting feature was this catalogue showing you the profile of each dog - their age, weight, breed, likes and dislikes, as well as the price to buy him or her. The interesting thing was that the "personality charectaristics", such as "shy", "clever", etc really did not seem to match up to the actual dog at all, and in most cases investigated were actually diametrically opposite. Maybe they were influenced by the biscuits.
Sorry, would you mind if I...? Oh, no, not at all, do go ahead...
One interesting feature was this catalogue showing you the profile of each dog - their age, weight, breed, likes and dislikes, as well as the price to buy him or her. The interesting thing was that the "personality charectaristics", such as "shy", "clever", etc really did not seem to match up to the actual dog at all, and in most cases investigated were actually diametrically opposite. Maybe they were influenced by the biscuits.
Now the game, as most customers work out after about fifteen minutes of no dog-love, is to buy a small packet of dog biscuits ($3), and then you are transformed from just another spectator into the most popular person, or at least the centre of attention, in the room. Until you have given out all the goodies. So clearly, a timed release strategy is the way forwards. However, you soon realise that the dogs only love you for your biscuits, and this undoes all the benefits of the attention from the dogs in the first place.
And this reminds me a little of the market. Short term popularity is not long term success.