Letter to My Dog

Dear Rascal,

Last night I spotted you inching towards the courtesy mat that is laid out for you in case of emergency bathroom situations. It is there to preserve your own dignity and modesty, though you never seem to appreciate that fact. As you reached the mat I quickly rushed you outside to the nice, dewy lawn, for you to declare that land yours. You peed outside (FINALLY) and I was so proud! As I leaned down to pet you and stroke your ego a bit you bit me on the lip. On the fucking lip! Why did you treat me thus? Was it because I had forced you to rest your buttocks on the wet lawn instead of the warm mat? Did I pet you a little too forcefully, caught up in my pride? Or are you just a little bitch that felt like biting my mother fucking lip?! You know what Rascal? I’m going to take it as a sign of the misplaced rage you have because you love me so much and you can never be with me, due to our difference in species (damn you, animal cruelty laws!). That must be it. Because if that’s not it you better pray you don’t try that shit again or I’ll be wearing you as a coat.

Love,

Tootsie Woo

Advertisement

Letter to My Dog

Dear Roxy,

I would be remiss if I didn’t thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for peeing on my bed the other night. I realize that you might have confused my comfortable, warm place of rest for the grass you normally relieve yourself on so it must have been embarrassing for you. I know I was embarrassed when I peed in a fake toilet at that children’s “Please Touch Museum.” Let me also put out there that I’m a LITTLE peeved about the whole thing. Little, like your bladder. I graciously invited you into my room, allowed you to play on my bed, put on Animal Planet so you could look at the cute boys dogs, and how do you repay me? You let a little pee come out. Not a lot but just ENOUGH that I’m not sure what the mysterious liquid is and have to get real close to it to double check. I understand it wasn’t your intention to tinkle on my lovely sheets but you got a little too excited and then after acted like it wasn’t no thang but a chicken wang on a strang! And, I mean, we’ve all been there but I don’t urinate where you sleep! So thank you, THANK YOU, for using the bed as your personal urinal. I’ll be sure to return the favor someday. Because I’m mature like that.

Love,

Tootsie