I'll have what she's having...

The smell of poached eggs with spinach and fried spuds was bound to overcome the manners of even the bestestest of dogs (me). Madame said it was delicious. I only got a few scrapings of eggs spinach in my bowl. I wonder what humans mean when they say, it's a dog's life. Is that when they try to emulate our voluntary simplicity and unconditional love?