There are times, as a pet owner, when I feel like I should change my name to “Jeeves”.
Pets hungry: “Jeeves! I’m peckish.”
Pets want out: “Jeeves, get the door, will you?”
Pets make mess: “Jeeves, be a good chap and scoop that up.”
Pets won’t eat regular food: “Jeeves, cook me up something different tonight, I’m feeling a bit queasy.”
Pets sick: “Jeeves, sleep in the living room with me. I don’t like being alone.”
Pets eat furniture: “Jeeves, order me a new sofa—this time micro-suede!”
Pets need grooming: “Jeeves, I want to look like a masterpiece today and watch it with that brush!”
Pets need love: “Jeeves, put that book down and pay attention to me.”
Pets lost toy: “Jeeves, crawl into that gross dark hole and retrieve my ball!”
Pets don’t like something: “Jeeves, remove that from my presence immediately!”
You get the idea. Sometimes I feel like I live to serve my pets. Except, they don’t provide the finances for my servitude, I do. Would I change it? No. Do I wish that they would give me back rubs and cook and clean? Yes. Will I actually change my name? Undecided. The thing is, when you get pets, you have to understand that you are basically offering yourself up as an unpaid servant. The rewards are great, but the responsibilities are too. In my house, at least, the animals believe that they are royalty and that they are entitled to demand love, food, toys, attention, playtime, and anything else that they desire. It’s my own fault that I have turned into Jeeves. But, I’m nothing if not a sucker for sad eyes and begging.