It is a curious spectacle. What may seem even more peculiar is that the dog biscuit man on the corner, who just a few years ago was an account executive at major advertising agencies in Minneapolis and Oregon, is having the time of his life.

Westbrook comes from a family of successful ad talents, and after he moved out West and started handling big-time clients, it seemed he would follow in that tradition. But one day when he was working out he noticed his calves were cramping and his finger was discolored. At first, doctors were baffled by the ostensibly healthy 28-year-old's case, but after doing some blood work they realized he had had a heart attack. As they investigated, the news got worse. Doctors found an aneurysm on his left ventricle and a blood clot the size of a Ping-Pong ball inside it. After enduring major open-heart surgery, he found himself lucky just to be alive.

The charismatic Westbrook handled the surgery well and had little problems with the physical healing process. Then came the mental part. After spending his days in rehab with the other heart patients, all of whom where older, overweight, and unhealthy, Westbrook struggled to understand his fate and soon fell into severe depression. But his naturally competitive spirit guided him through. He went back to work but discovered that while he enjoyed advertising, it just didn't seem that important to him any more. So he sold his house, packed up his truck and, along with his dog Diesel-who had proved instrumental throughout his rehabilitation-headed back to the town of Irvington, Virginia, population 500. "It's a very cool place," Westbrook says. "I recommend it to anyone looking to get their priorities straight."

After a lot of soul-searching, he came to two definite conclusions about his future plans: he wanted to run his own business and he wanted to do something with his dog. He found his opportunity right there in Irvington at the "Trick Dog Café," a restaurant his dad had started after retiring from the ad business. The restaurant's pastry chef was known for making dog treats for customers to take home to their pets at the end of the night, and Westbrook brought up the idea of making a special recipe. After some ardent encour¬agement from Diesel, the volunteer taste-tester, Westbrook decided to start a business and produce the treats full-time. The pastry chef contributed the original recipe. Bill Westbrook, Cabell's father, came up with the name Scaredy Cats (given in honor of Diesel's favorite pastime-chasing cats around Irvington). Cabell's brother Tripp helped design the unmistakable packaging and logo. Diesel assumed the position of CEO. Meanwhile, Cabell went to work on the marketing strategy, letting his creativity flare. "This is the fun part of advertising," he says.

In addition to being the most entertaining treats you'll see on the dog food aisle, these snacks, which are all-natural and help clean teeth, are probably the healthi¬est. And, according to custom¬ers-several of whom approach Westbrook on the street to say how much their dogs love Scaredy Cats-they are a hit with the target audience. "To humans, they taste pretty bland," Westbrook says. "But a dog's senses are six times that of a human's, and dogs can separate all the flavors. They taste everything-liver, carrots, molasses."

Cabell Westbrook's '93 signature truck heads into Richmond's staid business district.

With Diesel in charge of quality control, it is no surprise that the treats have been eagerly embraced. "If he doesn't like it," Westbrook explains, "I don't sell it." In fact, in an independent taste-test, Scaredy Cats beat Milk-Bone® by a 3 to 1 margin. But Westbrook realizes that his upstart company can't play with the big dogs of the industry. That's why he is handing out samples on the streets and talking one-on-one with potential customers.

For Westbrook, who loved the personal attention he received at Hampden-Sydney and says his decision to attend the College was made after receiving hand-written notes from the dean of admissions, grass-roots marketing is one of his favorite aspects of the job. "I love talking to people," he says. "And people love talking about their dogs. It's great." Ingenious advertising and a good product have helped Westbrook sell several thousand boxes so far. Ukrop's, a family-owned Richmond grocery chain, has picked up Scaredy Cats and is selling them throughout the city. At the end of 2001, sales of Scaredy Cats made up nearly fifty percent of the "gourmet" dog treat category (four brands). Westbrook is also selling the treats, in addition to hats and t-shirts, online at www.scaredycats.com.

And while he has spent most of his time so far cultivating a first market, he knows he must make some major sales just to break even. He has recently hired a manufacturer's representative to present his product to PetsMart in March, and this February he will be in Richmond and Tidewater Kroger stores with the hopes of rolling Scaredy Cats out in all of their stores by year's end. Westbrook's passion for his job means that the dedication and hard work of entrepreneurship come naturally. Whether on the road at pet store trade shows, curbside in Richmond, or with his dog at his home office in Irvington, Westbrook spends nearly every waking minute marketing his product. "It's taken over my whole identity," he explains. "But that's okay. I used to be the heart patient guy-now I'm the dog biscuit guy. Trust me, being 'biscuit boy' is heck of a lot more fun."