Shure Pets in The L.A. Daily News!

November 18, 2004

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Pet lovers collared for product parties

Candice Choi
Staff Writer

In a scene reminiscent of the Tupperware parties of yesteryear, about a half-dozen women gathered recently at a Calabasas home to hear Paula Glauner pitch vitamin gel caps, colognes and foam cleansers.

The products weren't for the ladies. They were for their beloved pooches.

"It has a calming effect on your dog," Glauner said as she held up a cherry-scented aromatherapy product. "And it goes great with the vanilla shampoo."

Glauner, an Encino resident, is just one in an army of 325 "pet consultants" nationwide who've signed up to sell Shure Pets products for dogs and cats since the Chicago company was created a year ago. California boasts the second-highest number of consultants behind Illinois, said founder Andrew Shure. The average party generates $416 in sales.

Modeled after companies such as Amway that gently push products through intimate social gatherings, Shure Pets is tapping into the sometimes kooky bonds that bring pet owners together. This night, the women will end up ordering $390 worth of products, including a "No Dog Poop" sign for $11 and a $120 pet ramp.

The ramp helps overweight or elderly dogs with hip problems get up and down from furniture.

Louann Farran, one of Glauner's clients from her pet-grooming business, hosted the party in her candle-lit home. Upon arriving -- some with their pups in tow -- the guests sipped wine, nibbled cheese and traded stories about their pets' latest antics.

Joanne Ruthbart, a Calabasas resident, is thinking about hiring a "dog whisperer" -- a pet psychic who will persuade her pooch to stop wetting the carpet.

"She's had the problem since we got her," Ruthbart confides.

Another woman tells of the "highly neurotic" terrier she's thinking about putting on herbal medication. The women agree terriers can be spoiled that way, especially as their owners get older.

"It's like having kids -- the youngest one gets spoiled. They take advantage of the situation," one woman says.

"They have doggie Prozac," another woman chimes in.

Wrapping a fuzzy social outing around a sales pitch is by no means a fresh idea. In fact, Shure modeled his business after the likes of Pampered Chefs, a Chicago company that sells kitchen appliances in a similar format.

Bringing that direct-sell style to the pet arena just makes sense, Shure said.

"Pet people are such a breed apart," Glauner agreed. "People love to talk about their pets, so it's easy to form friendships."

And make sales.

Candy Monteiro bought a packet of healthy treats and "some sort of spray" that's supposed to calm her teacup poodle, Cricket. "They always have an attitude when they're real little," Monteiro explained.

The draw of the party isn't necessarily the products, however. Monteiro just had a good time.

"It's fun to be with people that have doggies and are dog nuts," she said. "I know we're all a little crazy, but if you can't spoil your dogs, who can you spoil?"

After a round of ice-breakers and games, the women drift into the adjacent room, where Glauner has set up an array of sample products on the dining room table. The order forms are ready nearby.

It's the third party Glauner has hosted since she signed up two months ago. She invites clients from her pet-grooming business and church activities. Each party, lasting around an hour and a half, has earned her a commission of about $100.

Consultants pay a $99 fee and get a starter kit that includes a catalog of Shure Pets products. Consultants also get a fee for recruiting other "team members" -- something Glauner is just now in the process of doing.

Those who sign up to join the growing ranks of Shure Pets are generally, like Shure Pets clients, "passionate about pets," Shure said.