DOGGED DETERMINATION LIKE MANY BUSINESS OWNERS, PARTNERS IN PET-TREAT BAKERY COME TO THE REALIZATION THAT THEIR BOOMING OPERATION IS TOO SUCCESSFUL TO STAY SMALL.

Byline: Brent Hopkins Staff Writer

WOODLAND HILLS - Blade Gluck's pink tongue guides a business.

He lends his name to Blade's Bakery Doggone Heavenly, a home-based supplier of mail order pet treats. He's an expert in discerning the right blend of chicken and garlic in a biscuit. With his red-haired partner, Rosie, he's munched through peanut butter cakes and flax-seed treats. Through his stewardship, the bakery's business has boomed.

Blade's a dog, a large golden retriever to be specific, and his large, drooling mouth has led his owners to the brink of business success.

``The good thing is they're willing to eat the mistakes,'' said Julie Gluck, owner of the bakery and the dogs, rolling out a sheet of bone-shaped treats. ``The only problem is the house smells great every day and there's nothing for my family to eat.''

Last summer, Gluck hit upon the idea that the biscuits that made Blade's tail wag and tongue hang out could have a market. She began making them for friends' pets, then selling them to dog groomers. Demand grew for the savory snacks, so she enlisted her neighbor, Sheri Fiore, as a partner, and the two got to work, rolling, cutting and baking.

They laid out several thousand dollars of their own money, obtained a business license, bought a computer to handle labeling and accounts. They learned the tricks of designing a Web site, looked up distributors, sized up catalogs. They settled on a treat-of-the-month club, providing a pound of biscuits they mail to 30 regular clients and cakes for pooch parties. Five local groomers stock their wares.

With Blade carefully sampling the new recipes, business is flourishing. And like many firms that start as a good idea discussed over morning coffee, the success has strained its operators to their limits.

``We need a warehouse and one of those `I Love Lucy' conveyor belts,'' quipped Fiore. ``It's just getting too big. ... I didn't even own a mixer when we started.''

They find themselves at a crucial cusp - too successful to stay small, but still a very small player in a multibillion-dollar industry. Their next moves could determine whether they can parlay their early good fortune into profits or whether it will become an overwhelming burden.

``When you get larger, you have to say OK, I started out with hard work, enterprise and a little bit of luck,'' said John Tumpak, director of public affairs for the Small Business Administration's Los Angeles office. ``Then you hit the crisis point, where you have to manage, delegate and be aware of current techniques. You can't think just as an entrepreneur, you have to think as a manager who can run the enterprise you've created. ''

He noted that 90 percent of small businesses fail, largely a result of underestimation of the difficulties of a larger market. Gluck and Fiore seem cognizant of the challenges, examining patents and trademarks, acknowledging that they might one day have to merge with a larger operator. They've tried to differentiate their products from competitors, using flax seed and oatmeal flours to appeal to health-conscious pet owners, making lean elk jerky treats and branching out into carrot-shaped horse biscuits.

``You have to get serious about what's a realistic market and who are the competitors,'' said William Dennis, a senior research fellow with the National Federation of Independent Business research foundation. ``You have to put together a good marketing plan and figure out who's going to buy it, and why they'll buy it from you instead of someone else. You might know 10 people, but if they'll only buy 150 widgets once, it might not be a good idea.''

The two biscuit bakers have differentiated their lines somewhat, adding dog beds, whimsical bowls and gift baskets. They've also taken steps to give the business professional credibility, getting a toll-free phone number, accepting Visa and MasterCard and attending trade shows. They're baking in four ovens every day, cranking out hundreds of snacks each month, anticipating they'll be selling thousands at $6 per pound when the Web site launches. And this is just the beginning.

``When you're a business owner, it becomes your life,'' said Bob Holguin, director of the North Los Angeles Small Business Development Center. ``Your whole day and night cycles around it, you work long hours, weekends, versus the corporate world where you leave work at work. Here, if you have to be open until 10 p.m., you're open to 10 p.m. You can't work 8-to-5 or you'll go broke.''

And though they're optimistic, looking forward to taking Blade's favorites into pantries nationwide, that reality has begun to set in. Even assessing current customers portends the excitement, and commitment, that lies ahead for Gluck and Fiore.

``Oh my god, I've got customers until April of 2004,'' Gluck marveled. ``I will be baking dog cookies until 2004.''

Her partner laughed, offering a wry smile and a word of comfort.

``Don't worry,'' Fiore said with a grin. ``If it gets to be too much, I'll just tell everyone: Oh, you didn't hear about Julie? Yeah, she died.''

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3 photos

Photo:

(1 -- color) Partners Julie Gluck, left, and Sheri Fiore run four ovens a day, baking hundreds of treats per month as they watch their small business grow.

(2 -- 3 -- color) Above, Blade, a golden retriever, watches Sheri Fiore bake dog biscuits for her company, Blade's Bakery Doggone Heavenly. Blade is the company's taste tester. At right, partner Julie Gluck cuts out dog biscuits in her Woodland Hills home.

Tom Mendoza/Staff Photographer