A Day in the Life of Bentley

I realized today, after having a long conversation with my Beagle, that I want to be a dog in my next life. Actually, Homa is the one who brought me to this conclusion. She called me today because she was on a local hotel's website and she was looking at room accommodations. She called to tell me that this particular hotel has a menu of 70some pillows to choose from. It has a down comforter that they say is 12 inches thick. You can have a personal butler. Heaven, yes? Then I realized something.... for the bargain price of $300 a night, you can be my dog. And he gets this treatment for free.

Bentley gets his choice of any pillow or bed in the house. Maybe not 70 choices, but if you do a size ratio, I am quite sure the one oversize dog bed, four human beds complete with pillows and comforters of various sizes and fabrics, two couches, one oversize chair and one side chair are close enough to 70 in dog counting. Or does dog counting go the other way and we need to multiply the 70 by 7? Well, I can't do that math, so we'll just pretend that the size ratio is where its at. Plus, let's just go ahead and say it... I am totally his personal butler and I haven't gotten a tip in years. He rings a bell (literally) and I jump to let him out. He scratches at a door, and I jump to let him in. He looks at me and whines, and I get him fresh water (usually because Jack dumped the old water onto the floor and played in his homemade kiddie pool for awhile). We even retrieve his poop and dispose of it. I don't think the hotel butler has to do that much. Maybe fetch a soda now and then, but that's it. We even have to scratch and pet the dog on demand. I know the hotel butler doesn't do that, or they'd have to change his job title to hotel gigolo.

So, I decided to sit down and have a talk with Bentley to make sure he understands how lucky he is. It went like this.

Me: Bentley, do you realize how much I do for you?

Bentley: Oh... shiny thing. What is that? Must go see.

Me: Bentley... come here. Bent... come back. Bent! Ok, seriously, do you know what a good life you have?

Bentley: Uhmg fllumpf gglllumpfff. (Its hard to talk when licking yourself....uh.... you know where).

Me: Bentley, quit. Its hard to talk to you when you're doing that. Bentley... I want you to know that not all dogs have a life like yours. Some live on the streets, some starve, some aren't even allowed on the furniture, and believe me, Wonder Mutt.... not all dogs get the "rinse" the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, if you know that I mean. Especially after that lick show you just put on.

Bentley: I know and I want you to know that I am so grateful.... OH.... CHEERIOS ON THE FLOOR!!!! RUN!!!!!

Conversation over.