New Vegas Dog publication celebrates, well, Vegas dogs

Laser, a Belgian Tervuren dog, lies on the wood floor in the home of his owner Diane Quam, content, for the moment, to rest his silky-maned head at her feet while she speaks.

"(Dogs) are almost like children," she says. "They can't take care of themselves, but they sure can take care of us."

Sure enough, within moments, a delivery man makes the long-haired, brown dog sound like a burglar alarm with a series of short, warning barks.

Dogs bring joy, undying devotion and, on a good day, the newspaper, but Quam, publisher of a new quarterly publication, The Vegas Dog, thinks man's best friends deserve a little more recognition for all they do for their owners and the community.

"(Dogs) are so unassuming," she says. "They love you no matter what, they are there for you and they are always happy to see you."

The magazine's dogma is to promote respect for the four-legged friends, Quam says, and to show how intelligent and worthwhile the area's dogs are.

The idea for the mutt magazine was born -- or, rather, adopted -- last March when Quam was given a copy of The Tahoe Dog, a Lake Tahoe publication.

Quam's career as a computer program instructor didn't have the same bite as her past work with dogs as a groomer and at dog shows, so the self-proclaimed "diehard entrepreneur" took the leap and dug into the magazine project.

"I knew what I wanted to do," she says, adding that once the project got on its feet, "it took on a life of its own."

The 16-page, black-and-white publication hit newsstands June 3 in more than 112 pet stores and veterinary clinics throughout the valley.

Amber Dienhart, assistant manager of PetCo on North Rainbow and West Lake Mead boulevards, says she has seen many local newsletters and papers about horses, but never one for dogs. The store's complimentary stack of magazines has dwindled quickly.

"This is more of a dog town," she says. "We get a lot of dogs that come in (with their owners), and we have more 'dog people' than 'cat people' (who) come in."

Each issue includes rescue tales of strays that went from rags to riches; travel tips for adventurous owners and their canine companions; health care and training; and a photo gallery page for doting doggie-parents who want to show off their bowzer babies to aid local causes.

"Partly, we want to help with fund-raising," Quam says, "so, people can send in pictures of their dogs with a (donation), if they want, for their favorite charity and we'll collect them and send them to that charity."

Each cover features a prominent Las Vegan and their pooch hamming it up at home.

The current issue features impersonator Danny Gans, who reveals he puts a magnet beneath the dog-bed pillow of his 12-year-old chocolate lab, Sadie, to relieve her arthritis pain.

"We live in a very interesting city, and I think it helps make (celebrities) more real to show they are just as proud of their dogs as you and I are," Quam says. "You get more ... insight into the person, not just the celebrity."

The magazine also throws a bone to the community's lesser-known professional dogs.

"Dogs are not just ... pets anymore," Quam says. "There are work dogs out there -- guide dogs, police dogs, therapy dogs. ... They are out there serving us."

She says that fetching advertisers was, well, a walk in the park. A car dealer and a real estate agent posed with their respective pups for ads.

"People love dogs, there's a real bond there," Quam says. "And if you know that the (advertiser) is a dog lover, it's more fun to shop there."

And, she says, dogs can spark conversations that may have fizzled otherwise. "If you see someone and they have a dog, you might go up to them and talk to the dog. But you would never just go up to that person and start talking to them."

Dogs have been central to Quam's life since she was a tyke, she says. There was always at least one ("I prefer two") canine comrade by her side through high school, college, marriage and motherhood.

In high school, Quam yearned to train dogs for the blind and wrote to a guide dog association for certification. Although the name is long forgotten, the association's rejection letter -- which she says read "women get too emotionally involved" to give up the dog at the end of the course -- stays with her.

"I don't think that would happen nowadays," she says. "In fact, I'll bet most trainers (now) are women. We've come a long way, baby."

In 1973 she immersed herself in the dog-eat-dog world of canine competition, training her own dogs to appear in regional dog shows.

"There's an excitement there, like with any sport," Quam says of the shows. "It's just a thrill when you win. And if you don't (win), you can take it personally, like, 'What's wrong with my dog?' "

More importantly, she sealed her lifelong bond with dogs through the training and traveling, and wanted to give back what they had given to her -- loyalty, love and respect.

Quam loves her new profession as publisher, and the response from the animal-owning community has been good, she says. She printed 10,000 copies her first time out, and plans another 10,000 for the second publication due in stores and veterinary clinics during the dog days of summer, in August.

In the days when she worked with computer programs and was asked what she did for a living, Quam would typically get a nod, a small smile and an "Oh, how nice."

"Now I tell them I publish a magazine about dogs, and they say 'Ohh!'" she says. "It's fun, and people are interested."

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