(Editor's Note: This column, originally printed Aug. 10, 2005, was one of three columns that won Mathison first place for Best Humorous Columns in the 2006 Better Newspapers Contest, sponsored by the Washington Newspaper Publishers Association.)

Marge and I were standing in the store discussing how many bottles of baby food to buy.

A helpful woman next to us asked, "How old is the baby?"

Marge stammered, "Well, er, it's for our elderly cat."

Blackie had stopped eating and the vet prescribed baby food.

The cat loves it, but refuses to eat unless the food is right on the plate's edge.

Sometimes, I get down on a knee with a kitchen knife to scrape the left-over food over to the edge.

While down there, I think about how low I've sunk.

My parents were both raised on farms so my childhood cats were strictly outdoor residents.

Oh, every once in a while, an outdoor cat would run inside when a door opened, race to the butter on the kitchen counter and feast until thrown out.

And my kind-hearted little sister might occasionally let one in when Mom and Dad were not home.

But pet care consisted of dumping some cat food outdoors on an old plate twice a day.

Shaking off my childhood memories as I get up off my knee, my self-esteem is revived somewhat by the realization that Marge and I aren't the only crazy ones when it comes to our pet.

A guy in a good position to observe the current obsession with pets is David Goretski, owner of the Soggy Doggy dog wash in Des Moines.

He and his wife, Heather, probably could have not made a go of such a business a decade ago.

Some people are so attached to their pets, Goretski notes, they seek employment at companies that allow dogs at work, or they refuse to stay at a hotel unless it accommodates their canine with a doggy biscuit on an embroidered pet pillow.

Goretski has also seen sunglasses, special cologne and rhinestone collars on precious pooches.

Lee Atwood is another Highline businessman familiar with pampered pets.

Two years ago, I toured his $2.5 million Atwood's Pet Resort in SeaTac for a story. The resort is located about a mile from where my outdoor cats roamed.

Admonished by the resort's Web site, "Don't let your pet be a 'latch-key kid,'" pet parents dropped their Fido off for doggy day care or their Fluffy for a feline vacation.

Discerning dogs could choose from four specially decorated theme suites (Liberty, Jungle, Garden or Gone Fishin') with raised beds, premium dog food in a stainless steel bowl, and movies on television.

"Some dogs actually watch the movies," Atwood told me. "When the screen goes blue while the tapes are rewinding, they look around like, 'Hey, what's happening?'"

Feline siblings were allowed in the same suite with their canine brother or sister as long as they didn't fight like ... well, you know.

If the cats fought in the suites they had to "get thee to a cattery." No kidding, the 19 individual units for felines equipped with a raised bed or "pup" tent, high perch and outside view window were located in a "cattery."

Bored cats could also eye fish floating by in a fully enclosed tank.

Even the dogs staying in the more "Motel 6" atmosphere of Atwood's 100 indoor kennels got better maid service than their owners vacationing at the Ritz.

The kennels were cleaned three times a day.

Atwood admitted to me that picky pet owners some times had unusual culinary demands.

One pampered pet got fresh homemade chicken soup while another canine client was fed little canned sausages three times a day. Ironically, the dog hated the little wieners and would fling them to his grateful fellow boarders.

The Soggy Doggy's Goretski attributes today's pampering to people who consider their pet as their child.

But how does that explain what one customer told Goretski?:

"When I consider the joy that I got from spending dollars on my kid to the joy I get spending dollars on my dog, the dog beats the kid every time."