The trip to San Diego was a blast, and despite waving goodbye to my fur and feathered kids, I was excited to get away. We had decided months ago that I would only be gone a short time as we planned on getting a puppy thus restricting the length of time away.

Lilly was collected by pet taxi and transported to her favourite (yes, she really does enjoy it) boarding facility. It's a lovely environment with happy house-guests and morning and afternoon playtime. Staff take the care to apply her sunblock on her schnoot and make sure she's evenly matched with playtime buddies. In Lilly's case this means other rambunctious players with the tackling skills of an All Black winger. I could rave on about this facility and how they don't charge like some other places for stuff like supervised play, special diets and administering pills and potions, but you would think that this is a paid plug and it's not. Besides, I pay the full rate like everyone else.

Putting a puppy into boarding wasn't an option and Scooter's breeders thoughtfully offered to have him for the duration of my time away. It's a genuine and considerate offer and we know he'll have a great time being back there with the only remaining littermate and now potential show champion, Nanuq. Scootie didn't even notice when I slipped out the door. My last glimpse of the Pooter was of him being dragged by his scruff along the kitchen floor by Nanuq. Somehow I know he's not going to miss me.

The Pet Expo held in San Diego is huge - it's increased in size since I was last there. Two years ago I was astonished to see at least 40 stands peddling pet strollers. Somehow common sense and a lack of pick-up from the pet product buying market has seen these extravagant and mostly useless pet items dwindle. Over the three days I notice maybe two or three stands have them. I totally understand having one for an infirm, disabled or elderly dog. But to use these for perfectly healthy pets, in my mind, is ridiculous.

There are miles (literally) of new and not so new ideas and inventions. Miles of dog clothing like jackets and sweaters too. The message seems to be getting across to the pet market that not everyone has smaller dogs. So it's encouraging to see larger breeds catered for and sensible things like rain slickers hitting the shelves. Vitamin-enriched water seems to be popular as there's a number of new brands to choose from. Toys continue to be a hot favourite - my pick being a robust version of a sock monkey which you can slip a used soda bottle into for crunchy, noisy fun.

One evening we go to a dog and wine event that happens every week at the San Diego Wine and Culinary Institute. Here, people bring their dogs and sit outside under umbrellas and around gas-fired flames sipping wine and snacking on local and imported cheese while their furry friends socialize off leash. No canine fitsticuffs as everyone seems perfectly happy to take things at their own pace.

We sit at a table where a lady tells me that she and hubby bought their tiny Chihuahua from a local fleamarket for only $200, whereas they can fetch into the thousands. I try to make sure my jaw doesn't drop. There's a notorious and seedy trade in smuggling these dogs over the border from Mexican puppy mills. Almost always they have health problems and are well under eight weeks at sale. The smaller they are (and likely the younger they are) the more chance these little illegal immigrants carry big health problems. Generally they make the stuffy journey in car seats - they're literally stuffed into the car seat to get them over the border. Thankfully this little one has a nice set of parents who admit that they knew no better and didn't realise the trade they were unwittingly supporting.

PT cheekily muses whether the flea market dogs come with free fleas. Talking of smaller dogs, I'm beginning to think that people are really trying to shrink dogs down over there. I meet lots of 'teacup' Yorkies, Pomeranians and Chihuahuas. I'm trying to reason why you would want to fit a dog into a teacup. A vision of a woman sitting in restaurant keeps popping into my head: "Waiter, there's a fly in my soup."

"No, madam," the waiter replies, "that is the Yorkie you ordered."

Perhaps a dog sitting in Royal Doulton (or is that Royal Dogton?) is what appeals to some people. I would just be afraid to bring out the Dyson unless the little tyke was crated. Then again you wouldn't need to go to the expense of a crate as you could always use a piece of Tupperware.