A Letter to my Dog About the State of Affairs in our Household

Bad_News_bearDear Happy,

Listen, you little shit–

You do not get to decide when Mommy is done walking you. Mommy decides that. And if Mommy says, “Happy–I need to get out of the 105 degree weather so that I don’t pass out in the ghetto portion of our neighborhood,” then you need to step in line, bro.

And just because you may not like our walk ending early, just because this doesn’t serve your little poodle needs with your 3-4 walks a day and your 3 hours of non-consecutive green squeaky toy fetching—DOES NOT MEAN YOU GET TO PUNISH ME BY ROLLING IN DEAD FROG GUTS WHEN I TURN AROUND FOR TWO SECONDS.

Meaning of course that I get to work an extra hour because I have to stop, drop and douse you in several handfuls of puppy shampoo and hot, road-kill cleansing water.

Goodbye spoons–I knew ye well…



Your Wet, Spoonless, Migrane-y, Disgruntled Mommy



11 thoughts on “A Letter to my Dog About the State of Affairs in our Household

  1. You are one of the most talented writers on the entire Internet!

  2. I think these old wine lovers would enjoy your post.

  3. Don’t go sniffing that too much!

  4. Save up your money for a rainy day.

  5. You sure know how to make a squirrel smile.

  6. Where do you buy all your hardware?

  7. Don’t forget the grilled onions!

  8. Way to go Edward. This blog is amazing!

  9. No one can ever say this site is boring!

  10. Would you like some popcorn?

  11. These two are some real messy eaters!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes:

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>