There are times I dearly wish the dogs and I could have open, clear communication. I imagine it might go something like this:
Dear Delilah,
I love you very much and am so proud of all that you have accomplished in the four and half short years you have been with us.
There are times when your intelligence knocks my socks off, like how quickly you took to agility and how when we are walking and your leash becomes snagged you stand there calmly waiting for me to free you.
Then there are times when I am left shaking my head and wondering just what the hell you are thinking.
You have a tendency to destroy things, and really I am ok with your destroying toys that I give you, however I really have a problem when I come home to find you’ve eaten:
destroyed a box and rearranged the paper plates.
And while I’m cleaning up that mess; you go in the shopping bags and take out the grapes. Delilah, there is a reason I don’t give you grapes, they are dangerous for you; they can kill you!
Can you enlighten me, as to what goes on in that chocolate brain of yours?
With much love,
Mama
Dear Mama,
I believe you are referring to yesterday morning when you ignored my hint that I was bored and wanted something to do. Okay, so you threw the ball a couple of times, then ignored me and went into the kitchen where you tempted me with a fresh stick of butter.
Do you remember butter Mama? And the butter wrapper you used TO LET US LICK.
You made yourself something to eat and then without even sharing anything, got dressed gave me a garlic tablet and left. A garlic tablet! What kind of dog do you think I am?
I thought about that butter and its salty goodness and I couldn’t help myself Mama, I had to have the butter! Once that stick was gone my appetite was whetted and I started looking around for something else.
I thought about the table in the dining room and how you are always shooing me away from there and I figured there must be something good on it. Unfortunately I had to lick a few plates, and chew a little cardboard before I hit the mother load.
Those potato chips are good, but I don’t have opposable thumbs Mama, (you said it tonight when you insisted on going through the door before me) my only resource is my teeth, so I tore that bag up getting those chips. But oh the saltiness, it was well worth the disapproving look you shot me when you saw it.
I’m sorry you don’t approve of my methods Mama, but quite frankly I don’t always approve of yours, like making me lie down or sit for my food, or how about that long leash you make me drag around, or that bath you gave me yesterday after my wonderfully smelly roll in the field, and the way you make me wait until exactly 9:00 before giving me my treat.
Think about it Mama and you will realize the blame for yesterday falls on you.
I love you too.
Delilah
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