Travelling with dogs appears to be the new black. I guess it’s a natural outcome from plumetting birthrates and the singularization of (western) societies.
Providing a service, as I do, I’m here to accommodate your needs. If that means fawning over your pooch, so be it. If it means extra cleaning because Stanley, the Cossetted Chihuahua, sheds like a blizzard, that’s fine too.
But I draw the line at him nuzzling my crutch. My private parts are for select participation, and I don’t choose your dog.