It's me. I made it. I know, I'm as surprised as you. Honestly, the whole thing sounded a little too good to be true. Big open fields to run around in? Lots of other dogs to play with? And coming right on the heels of that unfortunate 'biting Aunt Gwen' incident, I'll admit to wondering if the whole thing wasn't some sort of code for 'take the dog to the pound and have him euthanized'.
Boy was I wrong! I don't want to disparage my former home, but this place rocks. And it's not just about the scenery and the license to 'run around'. It's really about the relationships. The dogs here, well, they're just incredible. One of the Lassies lives in my barn. Some people say she's a snob. I say, who else is going to teach us to write letters home and use words like disparage?
Anyway, we're having a sort of doggie Olympics this weekend (it's not nearly as formal as it sounds) and I just thought I'd throw it out there in case you wanted to try to make it. I'm in the stick chase and the sock tug, and, not to brag, but I think I've got a chance in the first one (I've been running a lot and I'm SOOOO thin now! Not that you got rid of me for being fat, but if that was it, problem solved!). I know you're really busy, and even before the Aunt Gwen thing you seemed to be wondering if you really wanted a dog, but it would be great if you made it out. I'd love to give you a nice big kiss (or we can just shake, are you in a relationship? you don't have a cat do you?).
So, you know, if you can make it, awesome. And if you happen to be impressed by my showing in either event, or my new slender physique, or my somewhat prodigious vocabulary and writing skills, I already checked with the big guy and he says you could still totally take me home. But no pressure. Either way. This place is great.
Your dog.
Monday, October 17, 2005
Note From The Dog You Sent To Live "On A Farm"
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4 comments:
Were you fat? Hmm... I doubt it had anything to do with the fact that you absolutely refused to eat anything but the best dry kibble mixed with the best canned food (Ugh! I think the smeel of that crap is still stuck to my nose-hairs!).
As for the aforementioned "Lassie", you have told her about your little operation, haven't you? She's only going to buy the "I'm so tired tonight" or "It must be the cold medication" excuses for so long, you know...
Although I can't make it to your Olympics (Fluffy is up for a Blue Ribbon at Cat Carnivale the same weekend), I really hope you do well. We wouldn't want a repeat performance of your last competition, what with all the tail-chasing and crotch-licking when you should have been doing the Doggy Slolam.
Anyway, take care and write again soon. I have to go now and try to get that piss smell out of the carpet from that lovely parting gift you so graciously gave us.
The Guy With The Number 10 Work Boots
Aunt Gwen here. I happened to be visiting the nephew and noticed your letter on the side table. The leg is much better now (not that you'd care) and the cat I gave your old master is showing him how a real pet behaves.
I have told my nephew that he is never to allow you within ten miles of this place or I'll not be visiting again. And I must admit to being quite surprised about the farm. He promised me it would be the pound for you. That could still be arranged, you know.
Anyway, I wouldn't bother hoping to return - Fluffy detests dogs and has been known to savage them on occasion. Just a little warning...
Aunt Gwen
wow. you guys are brutal. didn't anyone cry at ol' yeller?
Yes, of course...How could you not cry at Old Yeller? Seems that the new rural resident has the same trouble that most of us do...putting our hope in ill-fated relationships. However, believing in the under dog, as it were, makes me always hold onto the belief that perhaps the one who gave the former away so easily will come to his senses...or better yet, that the dog will find someone who loves him so much that the one-time-spurner will only wish he could have him back. Well, it's all quite a tricky situation, but indeed, my heart goes out to this little dog in his desire to be cherished, regardless of any possible mistakes or mishaps.
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