We'll Leave The Lights On For Y'all

Coming back home from Chicago, we stopped at a hotel in Georgia, where I had to sign an agreement that we wouldn't leave the dog alone in the room. This was a little problematic, since after the long drive we wanted to have a couple of drinks, so we were obliged to bring Chandler along with us when we went down to the hotel bar for cocktails. Luckily, drunks love dogs. One of the patrons was gushing all over Chandler when she asked, "So who's dog is Chandler?".
"He's ours.", I replied.
She looked at me, then at Mark, and I could see the gears whirring around behind her bleary eyes. "Oh, I see.", She snipped, and that was the last of her.

Traveling with a dog has it's challenges. On our way up to Chicago we stayed at a motel just north of Atlanta. It was the only one we could find that would allow a dog over twenty five pounds. When I took Chandler out for his late night walkies, I discovered why they didn't care about the dog. Between the prostitutes, and their pimps lurking in front of the motel, and the rats running across the parking lot, Chandler was considered a higher class of tenant.

That motel wasn't even the worst. In Tennessee we were stuck in a dump called the Sleep Inn. I dare say, very little sleeping is actually done there. The view out of our room window was of the air-conditioning system, and an Arby's drive thru. Inside the room, the carpeting was a slimy, dirty mess, and on each bed were filthy duvets. I immediately threw the duvets on the floor when we arrived, envisioning all the naked asses that had sat on them over the years. I was also very careful to not let my bare feet ever touch that floor. Chandler on the other hand found the place to be a wonderland of odors. It was kind of unsettling when he would come across a spot on the carpet, and spend an inordinate amount of time snuffling up the aroma. In fact I was almost relieved when he lost interest in the carpeting, and discovered how much fun it was to leap from bed to bed. Which he did, off and on, for a couple of hours. Despite the fact that I felt dirtier after taking a shower in that room, and I had to listen to Mark carp the whole time about the dump I had picked out for our stay, I was happy. My dog was with me, and my dog was happy. He got to groove on some really funky odors, and nobody yelled at him when he jumped on the furniture.