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On the skydeck of the Superwoof Dog Hotel in Cape Town, South Africa, the guests are having a blast. Some splash about in a shallow plunge pool, while others chase after balls thrown by the hotel staff. From their vantage point, the dogs have expansive views over the dramatic, flat-topped mass of Table Mountain in the distance. And in the foreground, a night shelter for the homeless.

Now common in the U.S. and other parts of the Global North, luxury pet hotels have arrived in South Africa. And they’re thriving. But in what remains the world’s most unequal country, according to the World Bank, with millions living below the poverty line and decades-long wait times for public housing, not everyone is happy about it.

Asanda Ncanda, 35, has been living on the streets outside the Superwoof building for the past four years.

“That’s where I sleep, under that bridge,” he says, pointing to a nearby cluster of tents beneath a highway overpass. “And the dogs are up there with their own private pool. They probably eat more in a day than we do in a month.”

On the morning of ReadNOW’s visit to Superwoof, a bulldog named Archie is celebrating his birthday and has just finished devouring a tennis ball-themed cupcake presented to him by the hotel staff. If his owners are happy to put up the extra expense, he has the option of enjoying a bottle of Champaws — a non-alcoholic drink for dogs — from the onsite “Woofbar.”

Luxury and poverty

Superwoof’s managing director, Bianca Couch, admits that in the socioeconomic context of Cape Town, the idea of luxury dog hotels can be “jarring.”

Decades of institutionalized racial segregation and discrimination under apartheid in the second half of the 20th century left South Africa’s cities among the world’s most rigidly divided and unequal. In Cape Town, the contrasts are particularly stark.

In the wealthier parts of town, affluent South Africans enjoy a better standard of living than in much of Europe or the U.S. This year, Time Out, a British media and hospitality company, ranked it the best city in the world, beating the likes of New York, Bangkok and London for the top spot.

At the same time, more than half of the population lives below the government’s “upper bound poverty line” — the level at which people can afford adequate food, clothing and other basic necessities. And huge parts of the city struggle with high unemployment, rampant violent crime and a lack of adequate housing and reliable services.

“We try to stay positive and just to provide the best service we can,” says Couch, adding that the hotel supports an adoption program for shelter dogs as well as being a significant local employer. “If we didn’t exist, that would be 25 people who didn’t have a job anymore.”

Couch says the rates are designed to be “relatively affordable,” with prices ranging from 210 rand ($11.45) for a day care pass up to 410 rand ($22.30) for an overnight stay in a private room. For context, a government report published in 2024 found that half of all employed South Africans were earning less than R5,200 ($283.26) per month.

“Most of our clients are young working professionals,” she says. “People care about their dogs’ mental health and well-being more than ever before. They don’t want to leave their dogs at home alone anymore.”

An ‘amazing experience’ for Fido and Fifi

Among the recreation options for Superwoof’s canine guests are long walks in the park and weekend getaways among the vineyards of the Franschhoek Valley. The hotel also hosts weddings, “tailored for dogs in love,” featuring confetti, a red carpet, a customized veil for the bride and bow tie for the groom. For an extra fee, the couple can get a themed wedding cake or enjoy a night in a private honeymoon suite .

“We want to make sure the dogs have an amazing experience,” says Couch. “There’s a lot of attention to detail.”

Dog weddings might not be for everyone, but Couch says demand for Superwoof’s services is booming, and they’ve received several requests from people around the country looking to replicate the model under a franchise agreement.

“It’s a growing industry and I don’t think that’ll change,” says Couch. “Pet hotels are popping up everywhere and they’re thriving. There’s just such demand for it.”

The industry is highly competitive, and rivalries between the dog hotel owners can be intense. “It would make a great TV show,” says Couch. “Like Desperate Housewives but with dog hotel owners, fighting over a cosmo on a Friday night.”

Superwoof’s main rival in the city center is the atFrits Dog Hotel and Daycare, which opened its doors back in 2015, billing itself at the time as the continent’s first luxury dog hotel. AtFrits boasts some particularly extravagant luxury flourishes. In the presidential suite, dogs can watch cartoons on a private TV from the comfort of a human-style bed complete with carved wooden headboard. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling and ornate, gilt-framed dog portraits adorn the walls.

The dogs can enjoy a wide range of health and wellness treatments, designed to help them “find balance and harmony in their life,” according to the website. These include everything from a basic wash, brush and blow-dry at the spa to hydrotherapy and even reiki, a form of Japanese energy-based alternative healing. A private outdoor dog park provides space for play and exercise. And for nervous owners, cameras provide a round-the-clock livestream so they check in on their dogs.

In defense of dog hotels

“People are always saying, how can you set up a dog hotel in a third world country?” says atFrits’ founder, Yanic Klue. “But they don’t realize small and medium businesses like this are what will make our country move forward. They’re keeping the economy alive.”

AtFrits employs 38 people, supports various charities and runs a program that trains and equips women from marginalized communities to make pet clothing, which is then sold in the hotel gift shop. For every doggy bow tie or jacket you buy, that puts bread and butter on a family’s table, says Klue.

She says it’s a misconception that most of those who use the hotel are ultrawealthy. Many, she says, are young people living in flats without gardens who don’t have anywhere to leave their dogs while they’re at work. One regular client is a waiter from a nearby restaurant.

“At first the idea of dog hotels didn’t make any sense to me,” says the hotel’s former longtime manager, Sailas Mapahlala, who worked in a Cape Town pet shop before being recruited by atFrits in 2015. “But then I realized it’s actually a service people really need. Within a month of opening I could see that we were in for a busy ride. Within a year people were trying to copy our business.”

In the leafy suburb of Noordhoek, on the city’s southern edge, Jayne Le Roux, the owner of Vienna’s Village luxury dog hotel and day care, says she’s having to turn away clients, “left, right and center.” She says the hotel is already fully booked for December 2025.

They HEAReadNOW dogs

When ReadNOW visited on the morning of the 14th of February, preparations were underway for a doggy Valentine’s Day party. Le Roux had ordered a batch of Valentine’s Day themed dog treats and pink, heart-shaped cookies, which she planned to serve to the hotel guests with cubes of watermelon.

Ahead of the event, the dogs roamed the spacious gardens, digging in the sand pit or exploring the play castle and model Cape Dutch-style dog cottage. Others played by the pool area, where murals of seaside scenes form the backdrop for a range of custom-built miniature dog sun loungers, cabanas and hanging basket chairs.

The hotel also features an immaculate spa, decorated with fake pink roses and acid green tiling beneath the vanity mirror. Soothing meditation music plays in the background while the guests get their treatments. Among the health and beauty products on offer are “wild cherry puppy spritz,” all-natural “heavenly hemp body spray” and “tropical mango pet perfume.”

“I wanted to open a place for spoiled, pampered little dogs who are used to sleeping inside with lots of cuddles,” says Le Roux, who launched the business in 2018. “But I never expected it to take off like this.”

Vienna’s Village lies barely a mile from an informal settlement on the edge of the township of Masiphumelele, where poverty and unemployment are rife, and residents live in ramshackle structures of sheet metal and timber packed so tightly together there’s barely space to walk between them.

In a bubble?

Asked whether running a luxury dog hotel in such an environment ever gave rise to moments of cognitive dissonance, Le Roux appeared surprised.

“I guess you just don’t see it,” she said, of the poverty in the city, before adding, after a pause, “I suppose we’re in a bit of a bubble.”

For some dog owners, the emergence of the dog hotels has been life changing. “If atFrits didn’t exist, I wouldn’t be able to keep her,” said one client, a children’s rights lawyer, as she arrived one morning to pick up her lurcher. “She comes here whenever I’m in court or in chambers. She just loves it here.” The lawyer asked not to be identified because as a condition of her employment, she cannot be quoted by name.

To others, however, the increasing presence of luxury dog hotels in a city where over 300,000 households are languishing on the government’s waitlist for adequate housing, is hard to stomach.

“We can’t be prioritizing the 5% over the 95%,” says Luyanda Mtamzeli, of the legal non-profit Ndifuna Ukwazi, which campaigns against inequality and the lack of affordable housing in Cape Town. “You’ve got a huge number of people who need accommodation in the city, and then you’ve got the 5% of the population who need luxury hotels for their dogs. This whole situation underscores the lack of genuine political will to tackle the structural and deep-seated inequality that persists in Cape Town.”

From a street corner near his tent outside the Superwoof building, Asanda Ncanda says he bears no ill will toward the hotel or its owners, but that it’s existence is nevertheless a constant reminder of the unfulfilled promises of post-apartheid South Africa.

“I love animals, and I would never say they shouldn’t be running their business,” he says, as the sounds of excited barking float down from the skydeck. “But what does it say about our society in South Africa? It hurts.”

Tommy Trenchard is an independent photojournalist based in Cape Town, South Africa. He has previously contributed photos and stories to ReadNOW on the Mozambique cyclone of 2019, Indonesian death rituals and illegal miners in abandoned South African diamond mines and won a World Press Photo prize for the images in his story for ReadNOW on clashes between elephants and people in Zambia.