Tuesday, September 13, 2011

A Letter from the Dog

Dear Mom and Dad,

You guys are great. You love me, you feed me (not as much as I would like, but it will do), and you let me sleep in your bed at night. I really appreciate all of this. The problem is that thing you came home with about 20 months ago. I think you call her Alice (what kind of name is that? Stupid). She is the devil and I would like her to leave now. 

Remember back when it was just the three of us? Yeah, I know we have the cats too, but they don't really contribute much. Except for the yummy poops and occasional face licking, I could really do without them.  Anyhoo, I call that time "the good ole days." And for very good reason. I laid around all day either outside in the sunshine or inside on the couch. In peace. We spent the weekends together. We went to the dog park. We hung out in the yard, you doing the whatever people do in the yard, and me chewing sticks and rolling in leaf piles. All of our your meals were eaten in the den in front of the TV. And you always shared. Always. It was the three musketeers. Now, there are four of us. No one ever says the four musketeers for a reason. Because the fourth was annoying and they kicked her out of their club. 

These days, there are some differences in my life. Differences that I did not ask for, nor do I appreciate. Ever since you brought the maniac home, things have been amok. Yes, she has an intoxicating scent of poop and hot dogs with a little soured milk thrown in, but I find her to be super annoying. These days it's all Alice-this, Alice-that. What does Alice want for dinner? How about what I want for dinner. Not this food you bought me for old lady dogs. I don't appreciate the assumption that I need tiny pieces of food. Last time I checked I have all my teeth. Where should we take Alice today, the park or the playground?  No one is talking about whether I would like to go to the park or not. Jerks. Sure I have a torn ACL, but I still enjoy a jaunt around the block. I am looking a little thick around the middle, thanks to you two and your inability to pry yourself away from your precious child and her many needs.

Don't even get me started on the teasing with the food. Yes, I will admit I enjoy the food the leech kid throws down during her meals. Some might call her behavior a bit ungrateful. If you gave me delectable treats like cheese, chicken nuggets, and pop tarts, I would NEVER discard them uneaten. In fact, I would eat them so fast, it would be as if they never existed. I would literally inhale them without chewing. You wouldn't even have to wash the plates. No, my real issue lies in the urchin's behavior when she has a snack. We all know I have the refined manners of one of the Queen's corgis. I don't snap, I don't snatch, I don't lunge. I wait patiently for my bite. I may, upon occasion, delicately take my bite when one has forgotten to share. I have tried to employ these manners with your offspring, yet she does not have my polished ways. She shakes her food in my face. When I try to have a bite, assuming this is why she isputting it in my face, she runs the other way. And laughs. Minx. I have no tolerance for this tomfoolery. From now on, I will take the food, consequences of child's volume be damned. I will still be gentle, honestly, that is just good breeding. But no more waiting. I am done kowtowing to a rug rat who eats bananas. (Ugh. As if that is food.) I will take what is owed me. That also includes that tricky plastic bowl with a lid that has a hole in the top that you fill with goldfish and cheerios. Yep, I can get the lid off that thing in a hot second. Good manners and smart. Not so much with your little cherub.

Moving forward, please take note of the following. I am requesting more walks. I am pleading for the screamer to sleep more, thus enabling the three of us to spend more quality time lying around watching TV. I will even let you pick the shows. I am putting you on notice to quit buying the geriatric food or else I will start barfing it up. AGAIN. Lastly, I implore you to muzzle the young one. She is too loud and I do not like it. At all. I prefer to sleep and groom in peace. I can't think with the constant shrieking and squealing. It is maddening and it interrupts my naps and cuts in on my butt licking. And as you well know my pets, that is when I do my best thinking.

Let me know if you want to think tank on some ideas of relocating Alice. I am sure I have some friends that know of a nice farm that may be interested in taking her.

Smell you later (literally), 

I have enclosed this picture of the good ole days, just
in case you have forgotten. You, me, a pile of leaves.
Now that is fun.


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