Thursday, August 4, 2011

Life is good - Until the dog asks for a beer

Column for 8-3

I'm convinced my dogs think they're human, and according to my male counterpart, "Why shouldn't they?"

"The dog has higher thread count sheets than we do," The Man said, slowly rubbing his cheek along the edge of our spare bed.

Around our house, which is occupied a majority of the time by those of the four-legged variety, there are two things that get replaced more often than in the average American household — you know, the homes with 2.5 kids and an SUV — and that's vaccum cleaners and bedding.

Along a wall in our basement sits a memorial to all the Hoovers, Dirt Devils and Eurekas that bit the dust, or in our case, bit more dog hair than they could chew.

Our spare bedroom closet contains a two-foot-tall stack of bed sheets. Though technically queen-sized, with the help of a nearly 90-pound mutt, they have been wallered on, worn thin, stretched out and so covered in hair that no guest to our home is allowed to see them.

Yes, his royal highness canine, King Ace, is too good — or spoiled — to have a dog bed. He stretches himself out, spread eagle, on our spare bed, where he spends a majority of the day, pillows and all.

It's a rough life.

"Come on Ace," I said patting The Man's empty side of the bed. Morning snuggle fests were our little secret.

That is until our sheets — the high thread-count kind — started showing signs of retirement. Adding them to the pile of "dog blankets," I bought replacements — unfortunately with a lower thread count — and pleaded the fifth when The Man asked.

"Hi Ace," said the bubbly secretary at our local vet.

Not one to be rude, he exchanged greetings as he propped his front legs on the tall counter and stood there — the way local farmers do while conversing about the weather.

Our other dog, the ShihTzu, who I'm also convinced thinks she's human, makes stops at her beautician more often than the average man hits the barber shop.
The two are very polite when it comes to family dinners. Seated alongside the family, they'll often shake your hand and wait until your finished before leaving the room. Aren't they considerate?

Like The Man, they enjoy the chairs in our home most when they are reclined. And their water slightly chilled.

While they remain completely and utterly spoiled rotten and human-like, I won't be concerned as long they don't ask me to change the channel or hand them a beer.

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