Dear non-dog who takes care of me,
I am writing this letter because I am almost two-years-old and I can’t help but wonder why you non-dogs are so… odd? Don’t get me wrong, I am very appreciative of all that you do–I try to convey that by licking you (because, clearly, you don’t speak Bark). But sometimes, you can be very annoying. Like why am I not allowed to eat at the dinner table with you? I find it quite rude, actually. Especially since you are always telling me to sit and I figured it was practice for when you’ll finally let me sit at the table. But, here we are, I am still eating from a bowl on the floor and you are still eating at the table without me. Ugh.
…where was I? I got interrupted by a small grayish creature with a fluffy tail running in my territory; don’t worry, I chased it away. Anyways, I woof you would give me more belly rubs. What is the point of sitting next to me, on my couch, if you are not going to rub my belly? And can you please put…put…put…what is that small rectangular thing in your hand anyway? Whatever it is, I don’t like it. It makes weird noises and sometimes, you make non-dog noises back at it which I think is pretty freaky. You pay too much attention to it, attention that you should be giving to me.
I’m back–I got interrupted again. This time, it was the non-dog that walks up to the door every morning. Who is that anyway? And why do they always walk up to the door and then turn around and leave right after? They don’t even open the door to say hi! I try to bark to tell them that I want to be their friend but they always leave and go into that big white box that moves.
Okay, well I smell chicken.
Gotta go–
Your favorite pup!
P.S. Thank you for giving me chicken. Can I have some more?
