Confessions Part 3; The Dog Edition.

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Dear Lindsay;

I feel it may be time to put it all out there, what with having your undivided attention and all…

I am not your dog, I am your Mother-in-Law’s dog. Sheila? Remember her?

You cannot keep stealing me from my home. I like it there, and am confused when you take me away in times that are unnecessary. I have literally heard you say as you walk in the door, “Don’t mind me, just stealing the dog for a few days…” And then you don’t return me for weeks!

Maybe it is time to just get a dog of your own?

But while I’m here anyways I had better get a few more things off my chest…

Dear Lindsay;

Do you really need to guess why I try to escape from your house in my unfortunate times of captivity there?

Okay, let me lay a few points down for you…

1. Your children are obsessed with me…It’s like I’m Channing Tatum after that awful stripper movie…Always touching me and whatnot, obviously it has became too much when the DOG is telling you to back off. Catch a hint kids…

2. You are constantly forgetting to feed me, and when you finally do you think it will be- Oh how do you put it? CUTE- to let the kids feed me. Ya! Real cute Lady, it takes them an hour to get it over with. All I want is my damn Cesar for small dogs blend.

3. You blame every tiny poo on the carpet to be mine…Aren’t you the one who is always writing about how much your kids excrete in a day? Why all the sudden is the hammer coming down on me?

Dear Lindsay;

I do not find it amusing when you put on your ridiculous Cabaret music and puppeteer me to dance along to ‘All That Jazz’.

It degrades me, in a way I cannot explain.

Dear Lindsay;

I do not require to be spoken to in a foolish baby-talk voice. You are making an idiot of yourself.

Dear Lindsay;

I want a treat, I want a treat, I want a treat, I want a treat…Oh shoot I peed.

Dear Lindsay;

Sorry I apologize for that, your tempting me with the bag of dog treats got away from me.

Yes…Yes I will sit and shake your hand for that treat.

Despite the fact we already know each other rather well and these kind of formalities are quite unnecessary.

Dear Lindsay;

Currently Sophie lays on top of me, and Lars’ nose is about a half inch away from mine and he is yelling incomprehensible words in my general direction.

All I have to say is that you are lucky I’m one of those, ‘good with kids’ dogs.

Dear Lindsay;

Remember last night when I hopped into bed and Jamie callously thrust me back on the floor, where I ended up sleeping singly all night?

Well, I guess I just wanted to let you know; that sort of, kind of… hurt my feelings.

Dear Lindsay;

I am very sorry for eating the fecal matter out of Sophie’s portable waste disposal unit today. I could not resist myself, the temptation was just too much for me.

Obviously next time you should be more diligent on removing its contents.

Or don’t…Whatever.

Dear Lindsay;

I suppose we both know by now that I love garbage. I love when I sneak it from the trash can in your bathroom, tear it open from the sweltering bag on the back deck, I even love it when it isn`t technically garbage yet and still just food that happens to drop off the plates of a two and four year old.

I love it so much.

That is all.

Dear Lindsay;

Please consider this last note a formal withdrawal of the first I had wrote. Come to think of it, it may just not be so bad around here as I had first thought.

Once getting past the horror of your children, the oddness that is YOU, and the complete lack of interest Jamie has in me…Other aspects of your home are quite appealing.

So with this being said, I suppose I can stay a little while longer. And as long as you try to tone it down on your overbearingly trying habits, perhaps I will grace you with my presence in future occasions.

These are the confessions of a Bichon Shih tzu, from the perspective of a lady who claims not to be a `dog person`  but secretly loves that damn dog like no other.

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