Rose's Cantina

I've often wondered how people with dogs keep their homes so neat and tidy. You know the people. They have two English sheepdogs and three cats, pristine terra cotta pile carpets, microfiber sofas and gleaming floors. There are no shit stains on the microfiber where the dogs have scooted themselves, no puke marks from the time the dogs ate the ham they retrieved from the ice box, no half chewed spindles on their chairs. These are the people who happily act as valets for their dogs instead of writing blogs complaining about them while the dogs chew their prized runners in the background. My friend Suzanne is a master dog manager. She has an incontinent, blind, 16-year-old dog named Buddy who keeps falling in the swimming pool. When Buddy poops himself, she and her husband have to spend an hour cleaning his gnarly fur in the laundry room. He often pees where he stands. And yet, her house is always pristine. I could have -- and perhaps...