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The Crooked Truth

Dear Dog:

Since you seem to have so much trouble
processing the English language no matter
how loudly it is spoken to you, I thought perhaps
I could communicate with you more effectively if
I wrote down my thoughts.

First, please allow me to assure you that you are not starving.
The way you visually track every bite of food I take, with a
trembling expression of frantic pleading, is most annoying.
In fact, if the newspapers bothered to publish a canine version of those irritating "body-mass indexes," I'm sure we would discover that you've got far more waddle in your walk than is strictly necessary.

Speaking of walks. We've been taking the same route around the same block for nine years. For you to sob, whine, and tremble every time I get out your leash is just crazy; and here's a news flash. Our next-door neighbors live there! They have a right to be in their own yard! Stop barking at them through our windows! Your crazed fury is especially irritating in view of the fact that when you actually encounter them in person you flop on your back and let them rub your tummy. As a guard dog, you're about as intimidating as a gerbil.

Now back to the eating; the following are not digestible. Balloons, crayons, socks. I can show you evidence out in the yard, so stop eating them. They are not food! Also, the stuff in the trash can is not your food. Oh, and your expression of shocked innocence when we accuse you of dining at the garbage buffet is not nearly as persuasive as the forensic evidence left strewn around the kitchen. Stop blaming the cat; she doesn't eat anything that costs less than a dollar an ounce.

Speaking of the cat, just because she gets to sleep on the bed doesn't mean that you do too. Did you think we wouldn't notice all the dog fur on our bedspread when we got home?

Look, you do make me crazy sometimes, but I suppose I have to admit that even though you're lazy (you probably won't even bother to read this letter) and don't seem very bright, you do have your positive attributes. You're the only one in the family who will get up and pace with me in front of the window when it's past curfew and my teenage daughter is parked in the driveway with her date. You're the only one who likes my cooking, and you share my opinion that we don't need a cat. After nine years of living with you, I suppose life just wouldn't be the same without you.

So wanna go for a walk?
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September 2025
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