Seattle is home to some doggone enterprising pet people

For folks with weak throwing arms who share their home and playtime with an avid retriever, the Chuckit! Ball Launcher is the silver grail of dog gear. Like a lacrosse stick or jai alai cesta, the 27-inch plastic tennis-ball launcher not only triples your tossing range but also reduces hands-on contact with the slobbery projectiles only a dog could love.

Today, Canine Hardware, maker of the Chuckit!, is a force in the dog-product world. Not only are the launchers ubiquitous at the dog park, but they come in a variety of models (prices vary, around $9-$12). Plus, the company sells retrieving balls, plush toys, a squirrel-shaped throwing toy and even treat totes, water bowls and dog beds.

When I learned that the inventors were locals -- the company's headquarters is in Issaquah -- it was the writer's equivalent to realizing you live next door to the brain that invented Bic pens. Then I got to wondering about the smaller guys, the future Chuckit!s, people who, when they couldn't buy what they needed for their dogs, turned around and made it themselves.

People like Lynn Kern. About a year ago, the Edmonds resident had an epiphany when she was walking her black Cockapoo, Maggie. "Everyone I saw was carrying a bag around and they all looked so awkward," she remembers. At the time, Kern was in the habit of conscientiously clothes-pinning her pup's waste bag to the leash. (Not a bad idea.)

That day, she went home and promptly fabricated a more permanent solution. She sewed two strips of Velcro into the middle of her leash to hold a plastic bag in place, creating the Kakaduty Leash prototype. It's a simple, streamlined answer to a perennial problem.

After seeing the founders of Silpada Jewelry on "The Big Idea," she was inspired to take her idea to the next level. She applied for a patent, created a Web site and arranged to have the leads made to order in Eugene (for less than it would cost to sew them in her kitchen). Available online, the polypropylene-webbing leashes come in a wide variety of colors for $13.50 each. Fifty cents from the purchase of each leash is donated to the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation.

If Kern is lucky, her leash invention might blossom into another Jerk-Ease, a shock-absorbing dog-leash attachment created by Madison Park resident Vanessa Goodell, who light-bulbed the idea when she was only 12. Looking for a way to alleviate the impact of the family's exuberant Portuguese Water Dog during walks, Goodell worked with her dad to fashion a device that would minimize sudden tugs.

Many prototypes later, Goodell's Jerk-Ease -- a short elastic coupling that fastens between a dog's collar and leash -- was endorsed by a pack of veterinarians, physicians, chiropractors, professional dog trainers and pet-store owners. Made in Everett and California, and available in red, blue or black (three sizes, $11.99-$15.99), Jerk-Ease is for sale in many local pet stores, including Mud Bay and Paddywack.

Bellingham resident Mullane Shrestha had her eureka moment many miles from home. In 2003, while serving a three-year stint as a Peace Corps volunteer in Nepal, she took in an abandoned and teething puppy. Unfortunately, she was working in a part of the world with no pet shops selling teething toys, so she had to improvise.

She found her solution in hard, cheeselike snacks made from boiling yak and cow milk with a mild citric-acid additive that separates the curds, which are then packed tightly into sticks and dried. Locals chew the long-lasting sticks while they work in the fields. And, it turns out, dogs like it too.

Mullane and her husband Nishes Shrestha (whom she met in Nepal) teamed up with others in the Seattle Nepali community to import what they call Himalayan Dog Chews. Priced at less than $10 for one large chew, the imports are big sellers at Crown Hill Pet Supply, one of seven Seattle stores carrying them.

The way dogs inspire us -- it's something to chew on.

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