The good soul who owned my house before me left me a basement bar that was functional but uninspiring. The floors were sturdy, the cabinetry acceptable, but nothing sparked. I couldn’t put my finger on the problem. Over the next decade, I just kept scratching my head, asking, “what’s wrong here?”

Meanwhile, my visits to classic pubs, taverns and hotel lounges on our family vacations to Ireland, Paris, New Zealand and other historic cities sparked my imagination. These places whispered tales of the past and hinted at adventure and camaraderie.

Then one day in my basement, a muse sang a simple song: “the cabinets are on the wrong wall, you ninny.” So I tore them down, moved them, and watched the room unfold before me, revealing its latent possibilities.

And now, in the belly of my basement, a lively spirit is stirring, longing for lively conversations, raucous debates, unfolding dramas and whimsical tales.

It is the spirit of Millie, our fox-red Labrador: a beautiful animal of dignified bearing and honorable lineage, who proves that tail wags and paw shakes can obliterate any social barrier and create the strongest of friendships.

Welcome to Millie’s Underground.