I've spent a lot of my life staying in hotels. Some of them quite luxurious. I've often wondered at some of the arcane services they provide. Many of them instituted by our forefathers. But how much food must you consume, and how many ports or brandies swallowed before you are incapable of turning down your own bed covers? How bloated must you be before you are incapable of pulling off the counterpane and falling unconscious into bed. It's one of the oddest things that happens in a hotel. I don't mind the little chocolate they leave, of course.
Well, my youngest poodle Johnny is obsessed with the turn down service. He can't wait to get into the bedroom and rout about - pillows awry, sheets mussed, and comforter disarranged. We get the full works if we're not watching.
Following his efforts he's always very pleased himself. Last night while S.W.M.B.O. (She who must be obeyed) was out yoga-ing, and I was putting the finishing touches to a particularly good Beef Vindaloo, he came trotting into the kitchen. His bobbed tail was erect and he had a look of total satisfaction on his little black face. Yup, he'd done his job! What is in his little poodle mind? And can he be trained to leave the little chocolate behind?