Cheyenne resident Lily de Fluer Denker lives a life of firm routine.
Mornings begin listening to National Public Radio in bed. Then she eats a breakfast bar and settles into a recliner for an hour of network television.
After that she’s on a walk to get the mail, visit the neighbors, and back home for a short nap before heading to town on essential errands.
Her habits, though, are not without some indulgence, including her monthly haircut and massage at the Nirvana Spa – which is a dog grooming business, because that’s where you go when you’re a seven-pound toy poodle like Lily.
If Lily’s routines seem humanlike, it's because she’s never not at the side of her mamma, Susan Denker, for whom this poodle is as dependable and necessary as an appendage.
“She sleeps on my pillow. I listen to her breathe. It's that intimate of a connection,” Denker said.
The poodle joins her for primary care visits. She will even lay on Denker’s belly during teeth cleanings, which must make for great “canine” wisecracks in someone’s lucky dental office.
It represents the latest in a 40,000-year interspecies relationship that continues to find new depths of intimacy in an era when the phrase pet owner now feels like a misnomer.
“There's a difference between a pet owner and a pet parent, because these animals are an increasingly important part of our society and our social fabric. They are our support systems,” she said.
Dogs 'Part Of A Larger Answer'
For Denker, dogs stepped in to fill the emotional gaps left in the wake of familial dispersal.
Decades earlier, her former husband moved overseas for work as an energy executive. Her children followed in his footsteps to attend international schools before launching careers that carried them far from Wyoming, to locations like Florida and the United Kingdom.
Meanwhile, Denker, Wyoming born and bred, was called to serve as first female minister in the Rocky Mountain Conference of the United Methodist Church, which saw her living for the first time alone in Wheatland, Wyoming.
Into this familial void bounded a German Shepherd named Sadie, the sire of a police dog who served as both her protector and partner.
“I was a single woman, and in those days I looked pretty good, and I was right off I-25 so it was good to have a big 85-pound black German shepherd with me,” she said.
Sadie was followed by other breeds, including a Pomeranian and then – perhaps her final K9 companion — a toy poodle by the name of Lily de Fluer.
“I think they are a part of a larger answer to what's happened to us as a nation and the society. Right now, we're really socially fragmented, and our dogs and our pets have become super important.” Denker said.
Yet as the human-dog bond reaches new depths, the associated financial obligations are reaching new heights.
Petflation
Denker represents a swelling demographic of Wyomingites who are willing to pay good money for pet services. As a result, “petflation” is running well ahead of the overall inflationary average of consumer-price index (CPI).
The latest CPI data from September, 2025, shows the year-over-year cost of pet services increased 7.73%, according to Cowboy State Daily analysis U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics data. By comparison, human haircuts increased by about 5% while the average CPI inflation increased by just over 3% during the same period.
Since 2020, when a boom began in pandemic-related pet ownership, prices for pet services have increased by 37.3%, or an average annual inflation rate of 6.55% per year, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics.
But for pet parents like Denker, Lily is worth the expense.
“These are not farm dogs that get scraps from the table anymore. These are treasured family members, and the grooming is one aspect of that,” Denker said.
These relationships are reciprocal in vital ways, and Lily has earned her keep.
Poodle preference among humans is long-established, dating back even before the 18th century French aristocrat Marie Antoinette popularized the breed through exorbitant adoration. They are considered among the smartest dog breeds and have specific utility.
Lily was professionally trained to recognize signs of high blood pressure by sensing pulsations with her muzzle against the neck. When the poodle ascertains unhealthy pressure, she begins rubbing the telltale area with her snout, as she did during a recent dental cleaning, leading Denker to call the appointment off early.
There is ample testimony to Lily’s intelligence, and for Denker, no amount of adoration is sufficient, because this toy poodle saved her life.
‘If It Hadn't Been For Lily …'
On a warm morning last July, a friend of Denker’s named Karen arrived at her condo to help with domestic tasks. Karen rang multiple times, though no one came to the door. But before she could turn around to go, Lily got her attention through a six-inch break in the blinds.
“Lily kept barking at her and then running to the bedroom, and then back to the window and barking at her and again running to the bedroom. She did that four or five times until Karen figured out, ‘She’s trying to tell me something,’” Denker said.
Karen walked around the home and looked through the back window. Denker was unconscious on the bed; she’d suffered a severe heart attack. Shortly after, first responders broke down the front door and got Denker to emergency treatment.
“If it hadn't been for Lily alerting Karen, and Karen being wise enough to listen to a dog, I would not be talking to you now, because they did pronounce me dead at one point,” she said.
Two months later, Denker stopped by the groomer where Lily’s was being boarded, and the reunion was buoyant.
“They took her out of the crate, and she saw me and just went hysterical. They put her up on the counter. She wrapped her legs around my neck. She tried to crawl inside my shirt. She licked absolutely every centimeter of my face, my lips, nose, eyes, she gave me a full wash,” she said. “I was holding on to her as tight as I could, and she was holding on to me too. She was about to let go.”
Amid a time when ties between pets and their owners have never been stronger, there is also a deepening relationship with groomers, who can feel like members of the family.
This also means that when groomers depart, both practical and emotional voids are left behind. Such is the looming case for Denker and Lily.
‘I’ll Never Understand People. I Understand Dogs’
Kelley Schaaf has been grooming dogs for 28 years, a long career sustained through a deep love of animals, which in addition to closeness with clients, shows up in the “menagerie” of her own home, where cats, dogs and a parrot all cohabitate.
She’s also developed the ability to read the K9 body language as clearly as pawprints in the snow; a stiffened tail denoting anxiousness, a bowed back and high butt signifying an eagerness to play.
But she also picks up on esoteric mannerisms. When a dog yawns, for instance, it often means they want their handler to calm down.
“If you're worked up and the dog is yawning, that’s them trying to get you to relax,” Schaaf said, adding that she finds the humans on the other end of the leash more counterintuitive than the dogs.
“I’ve noticed that when times are tough and the economy isn’t doing well, people actually tend to spend more on their pets,” she said, “I’ll never understand people. I understand dogs.”
She’s witnessed trends in breed popularity change too.
“Right now, everybody is into the doodles, all the doodles, Aussiedoodles, Bernedoodles, Goldendoodles — glorified mutts. They’re super cute and fluffy, and range in all sizes, hypoallergenic,” she said.
It marks a major contrast to what Denker recalls from her upbringing in Sheridan, where in the 1950s the popular breeds were labradors and Rough Collies, un-fenced and free to roam, giving kids like her a sense that dogs belonged to the whole neighborhood.
In those days, grooming might amount to a garden hose spray down, and there’s no telling how long those toenails grew.
Today, owners are not only splurging cuts, massages and bougie doggie shampoos, they’re also encouraging pet personalities to shine with edgy haircuts and color-dyes, according to Schaaf.
Picture Shih Tzus and Yorkies with samurai-style top knots, or standard poodles with mohawks and punk rock dye jobs.
The sector is also becoming infectious even among non-pet owners. Dog grooming is officially a bingeable form of online content, because of course we want to watch a Mastiff’s droopy flews flap in a high-velocity dryer, or the transformation of a never-before-washed farm dog.
At the base of this exploding industry, though, are people like Schaaf, and the relationships they foster over years.
When Denker was in the hospital this year, it was Schaaf who she entrusted Lily with. And Schaaf, too, was hit with a sense of loss when it came time to send Lily home.
“When Kelley walked in and saw me with Lily, oh, the look on Kelly's face. I should have warned her. I didn't know how it would go or how much it would hurt Kelley. It was not the easiest on Kelley because she’d fallen in love with Lily.”
The moment underscores the uniquely personal aspect of the pet services sector. And it's for that reason that Schaaf, Denker and Lily – along with many other pet parents in Cheyenne – are all grieving, because Nirvana Spa is no more.
Groomer Separation Grief
Kelley Schaaf this year sold Nirvana Spa and is currently transitioning into retirement.
“Myself and a lot of people are feeling desolate, we’re grieving, sad, desperate.” Denker said, who’s been with Schaaf for 20 years, and through three dogs. “She understands that a lot of us are not pet owners, we're pet parents. So it is like losing a family member.”
Zakary Sonntag can be reached at zakary@cowboystatedaily.com.
