I thought room service cost an arm and a leg, but I discovered it also costs a paw and a tail if you order from the Loews Hotel Room Service Menu for Pets. Hotels are wooing pet owners these days, if only to justify their investment in fumigators now that most of the smokers are gone. There’s one hotel chain that loans you a pet if you miss one, but all they offer is goldfish. No doubt it’s my lack of personal magnetism, but fish just never seem to tune into my feelings.

Anyway, the Lowes Pet Menu, printed in Spenserian script, includes:
Bow Wow Tenderloin of Beef: a hearty meal of filet of beef with eggs and brown rice - $14,
Chow Hound Chicken: tender shredded chicken with carrots and green beans - $10, and
Grrreat Vegetable Feast: mixed vegetables with eggs and brown rice – $9.95.
The vegetarian option might seem like a real gyp from your dog’s point of view, but then he hasn’t read that it’s "developed especially to help pets adjust to jet lag and altitude…easy to digest and helps to re-hydrate travel-weary dogs and cats." Lest the bellboy forget to leave the toilet seat up, be assured that all pet meals are served with Evian water, on " appropriate petware."

I know what you’re thinking: The outrage! The waste! The stupidity! In short: why no wine list? Any pet that can discern the difference between white and brown rice would expect, at the very least, an indifferent Vin de Pays to wash down his bone. Oh, I know some pets are on the wagon, and there are pit-bulls and alley cats who think fine dining means Domino’s and Bud. But to force well-bred dogs and cats in great hotels to choke down a plate of tender shredded chicken without a crisp New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc is nothing short of abuse.

You may doubt your dog appreciates a good vintage. You underestimate him. As any connoisseur will tell you, the character of wine is perceived mostly through the nose. And who knows smells better than a dog? He’d win any blind tasting, paws down. He could tell you not only the year, the grape and the vineyard, but what breed of dead squirrel was wedged inside the press and whether the winemaker was wearing underwear.

The fact that dogs play poker has been well documented. They prefer to shed on the finest furniture in the house. They grasp the subtleties of high-concept napping. They are, in a nutshell, bon-vivants.

Cats, on the other hand, have appetites more discriminating than Rabelaisian. They prefer a subtle Pinot Noir to a rustic country Grenache. They’re liable to send back a bottle that hasn’t been stored properly and is showing off-odors. But then I’d sooner trust my Riedel lead-crystal flutes to a cat.

I’m tempted to tip off PETA about the Loews hotel chain. This sort of pet-ism would never be allowed in Boulder. Their law states that you are not your pet’s owner, only his custodian. Meaning that he’s free to choose his own beverage. In the granola capital, if an animal demands a bottle of Dom Perignon sent up to the honeymoon suite you can’t do a damned thing about it.

What kind of world are we living in that denies animals the basic pleasure (not to mention the anti-oxidants) of a glass of wine? What kind of people are we that spend money stocking our cellars while our pets go thirsty? Why can’t we all just come together with love and tolerance, accept our differences, throw our kibble to the winds, and share a meal?

Serve Vintage Brut to the Malamute, give your pup a cup, your pooch some hooch, your pug a mug, your Dalmatian a ration, your woof, Châteauneuf, and your Beagle, Chivas Regal. Make your Terrier merrier, your Setter better, your Newfie goofy and your Retriever a believer. Let your Whippet sip it, tell your Manx, thanks, keep a leash on the Bichon, and make mine Alpo.

By Jennifer Rosen: http://www.vinchotzi.com