The Day Chatham Stopped Running Out of Dog Food

Auto-Ship Changed Shopping — and Chatham Didn’t Notice

For years in Chatham, running out of dog food came with a small, familiar consequence.

You noticed the bag was light. The dog noticed before you did. You grabbed your keys, drove toward Main Street, and parked where you always parked. You pushed open the door at Paws and Claws. Someone looked up. You exchanged a few words. Maybe you asked if they still carried the same brand. Maybe you didn’t. But you were there.

That stop—unplanned, unremarkable—was the point.

At Paws and Claws, those moments made up the business. Not big purchases. Not crowds. Just people coming in because they needed something and this was where you went.

Then, gradually, the reason to go disappeared.

After nineteen years in West Chatham, Paws and Claws is closing at the end of the year.

The change didn’t announce itself. Dog food began arriving on porches. Cat litter showed up without being added to a list. Flea meds renewed themselves quietly in the background. One less errand. One less thing to remember.

It didn’t feel like a decision. It felt efficient. Sensible. Helpful.

From the sidewalk, nothing seemed wrong. The phone kept ringing. Groomers worked in the back rooms. A bark echoed down the hallway. The shelves were full—leashes, collars, toys, shampoos—everything in its place.

But fewer people walked through the door.

Auto-ship didn’t pull customers away all at once. It removed the moment when someone realized they were out of something and had to leave the house to fix it. Once that moment disappeared, so did the habit of stopping in.

And habits, especially small ones, are harder to replace than we think.

Most people didn’t stop caring about Paws and Claws. They didn’t decide to shop elsewhere. They simply stopped needing to make the trip, because the problem had already been solved by the time it crossed their mind.

Multiplied across a town, that quiet convenience does real damage.

Main Street didn’t empty overnight. It thinned. A little less reason to park. A little less reason to wander in. One subscription at a time.

And now a place many of us assumed would always be there—just part of the scenery of West Chatham—won’t be.