Staying at the Ritz

Thanksgiving took us back to Idaho and I agonized over accommodations. I checked out Yelp and talked to several people before visiting the place in person for a tour. I was worried about the usual things: Cleanliness, an attentive and friendly staff, an afternoon treat and some good hearty playtime.

Yeah, this is about my dog.

I’m not alone in pampering my pet. The Ritz of dog hotels in our parts, called Wag Hotels, is booked full for the holiday – we snagged one of the last spots only because I booked a month in advance.

Why is this the doggie Ritz? Think queen-sized beds, flat-screened TVs with a connection to Netflix, bedtime stories with a belly scratch, an indoor pool. Ridiculous? I think so… mostly.

My dog doesn’t get those amenities, which cost more than the hotel my husband and I are staying in on our trip.

Instead, my little sheltie is in a medium-sized kennel and not in the junior suite, deluxe suite or super deluxe suite offered here. But I’m comforted by the fact that Wag offers these higher-end amenities. They love dogs and know they are catering to a fussy crowd. This gives me confidence that my pet will be well cared for and not just warehoused. After all, he can’t tell me if a place deserves one star or four stars so I have to use my best judgment for him.

The medium kennel comes with meals, two daily playtimes, and treats. I’m asked if I’d like him to receive a special Thanksgiving dinner that’s being prepared – it’s turkey along with other nutritious sides approved by a vet. It’s just $5, the clerk encourages gently. Sheepishly, I agree. After all, if we were at home, he would get a little something too.

I turn down the other "up-sells" such as the extra cushion for his bed, extra treats and extra playtimes -- even a private playtime is offered so he doesn't have to share human attention with others. Geez.

The days go by quickly and I'm not worried at all. After all, he'd be crazy not to be happy there.

We’re back from our trip and my sheltie seems happy enough with his stay. During the check-out process, I'm given a report card. He plays well with others, I read, and he had a special bulldog friend that he palled around with during playtime. I’m given a photo of him playing, a nice touch.

The bill comes and the price tag is high enough to give me a twinge of something. Guilt? Nausea? Embarrassment? It disappears quickly and all that has remained is peace of mind.