…so while I’m at this hotel with no WiFi, Her Ladyship is at the Doggie Spa. Right about now, she’s lounging with cucumbers on her eyes, a technician filing madly away at her nails, tail wrapped in a white Terry cloth towel. She’s complaining about her 401k, the Asian markets, and her waistline. To her left is a beef-flavored umbrella drink with a bacon chaser.
Later, she’ll get a massage. She’ll order bad shoes online from her phone…opposable thumbs be damned.
She’ll give me the bill.
I love my dog.