Hotel Bathrobes for Dogs
One of the things that the financial pages deliver is humor. Nothing is funnier than money. The affluent to moderately rich are an overlooked source of humor yet offer a rich vein for business writers to mine. A case in point are the scribes at Yahoo Finance who offered a quiz today about American spending habits. Do we spend more on jewelry or pets? Shoes or pets? Sporting goods or pets?
According to the Census Bureau, pets win. Two curiosities emerge almost simultaneously, pleading for elucidation. First, how does the Census Bureau know this? Second, is anyone tracking the number of pets out there who feel slighted by the news that in the upper echelons of pet wealth, life is good. Let’s say you’re a dog who lives in Ohio, Winesburg, for Sinclair Lewis fans, and you wake up every morning as a dog in a modest but friendly environment. The master is a middle management type, something of tightwad, predictable except in the arena of cell phone use. You’re glad that you’re a dog and exempt from the lectures on cell phone use. Then a neighbor dog shares this bit of information with you: dogs owned by the rich and famous are treated to some of the following perqs:
Massages after vet visits. You get what? A shot and a ride in the station wagon.
Paul Mitchell grooming products for dogs, including cologne. A quick check of the master bath reveals Old Spice which you already know gives you a rash.
Luxury dog hotels including bathrobes. This is a killer. You’ve longed for a personalized bathrobe. Sure the kids have draped you in their bathrobes before adult intercession permitted anything close to luxuriating in the bath robe’s unique properties. Yesterday you were a happy dog in Winesburg Ohio, slightly worried about cell phone use, slightly torn and frayed from a lack of personal grooming products, but, by and large content. Now, you’re bitter. Now you know that there are dogs out there with personal trainers, anxiety coaches, and bathrobes. You hop a bus to Cinci…because sometimes a dog’s gotta do what a dog’s gotta do. A ticket to DC. You’re going to the Census Bureau where it all began. You rehearse your speech. I’m Bruno and I want a bathrobe.