Elvis’ Opinion #4 on Hair Pins, Bubble Baths, and Almost Paradise

Jack and Callie are making a mess of things faster than I can straighten them out. Don’t think I didn’t pick up where she’s been the minute she walked through the door. I’ve been to Leonora’s cottage with my human mom enough to know the scent of that stinking hawthorn hedge. Add the ripped sweater and the scratches, and any dog worth his weight in PupPeroni would do exactly what I do, race up the stairs and keep a sharp lookout while Callie tries to soak away her troubles in a bubble bath.

Listen, I picked up the scent on that hair pin the minute Jack pulled it out of plastic. Don’t tell me Callie’s not in trouble. If you do, you’re liable to end up in the Promised Land. I may be a short dog in a splendid basset suit, but I’ve still got what it takes to get the job done.

“Elvis, this is just awful.”

I thump my tail to let Callie know her best dog loves her tender even if Jack Jones is too stubborn to admit his true feelings. He thinks anyplace with her is paradise.

“What am I going to do?” she says.

I tell you one thing she’s not going to do: be lonesome tonight. I howl a few bars of “Love Me Tender,” and then lay my handsome head on the cool porcelain rim of the tub.

Callie rubs my ears, and I decide that life doesn’t get much better than this. If I had that good T-bone buried in the back yard and Jack Jones was waiting in the next room, I’d be in dog heaven.