I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. This is a terrible hotel. My room has not been cleaned for days.
Me: Uhhbbb…this is not a hotel.
Stella: Oh, Lady Human. Of course, it is. It doesn’t look all fancy like those places on the Picture Box…which still freaks me out by the way…but it is my hotel. I have room service. I have a sunbathing area. There are midnight snacks.
Me: Well, not exactly midnight. That’s a little late.
Stella: Yes, that is why this is not a good hotel. The kitchen closes too early.
Me: But the beds are soft.
Stella: Mmmm…meh. I have to arrange my own blankets because the human never does it right.
Me: I am the human who does it.
Stella: I was trying to be polite. I understand that you don’t know how to run a hotel.
Me: This is not a…
Stella: Don’t worry, Lady Human. I won’t tell anybody how bad the service is here. The pack and I already know. We love you anyway, but don’t expect any Happy Barks.
Me: Happy Barks? You are rating me?
Stella: We’re bulldogs. We judge everything.
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