
Meet Mr. Bingley.
I think this picture pretty much answers the question.
Mr. Bingley has mastered the art of being completely comfortable with himself. He can stretch out in the middle of the floor, belly in the air, paws going in every direction, and look at you as if you’re the one behaving strangely.
There is no concern about dignity. No concern about appearances. And certainly no concern that somebody might need to walk across the rug.
What makes Mr. Bingley uniquely Mr. Bingley is that he doesn’t just live in our house—he owns it.
We simply have the privilege of living here with him.
And apparently, we’re responsible for the mortgage.
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