Dear Grady,

Yo, Grady. We need to talk about a few things.

First, while I’m still disappointed about the regular ebb and flow of the tide from your water fountain on the kitchen floor, I have also been happy recently not to have to change my underwear in the middle of the day when your overflowing flews drop most of the contents in my lap. Good boy.
You know how I enjoy your company and your enthusiasm–but enthusiasm tempered with restraint can be a wonderful thing. So dignified, so noteworthy. So much more likely that I will survive the onslaught. I suspect that teaching you to kiss me may have been a tactical error, so if you could perhaps not go about it with quite so much wild abandon, I would really appreciate it. Part of the problem as you know, is that I already need surgery on one knee, and if you keep trying to climb into my lap after my lips, then we are both going to be in a pickle when I am no longer mobile enough to take you outside.

And speaking of going outside, I realize that dogs have no concept of wearing things, but really, if you stand there at the door on my duckies/boots, the likelihood of you getting outside is not very good. In addition, although I know you are blind and can’t see it, you are smart enough to know that doors open and close. And if you stand in front of or against a closed door, it will not open. Ever.

Inside, it seems much of your time is spent de-stuffing toys. There is a purpose to stuffing those things. It makes them fat and fluffy, and cute. There is no goldmine of treats inside them, and while they may very well have been made in China, trying to dig to China through a gutted toy is not going to get you a pot of gold.

We also need to talk about digestive systems. Our innards are essentially the same in function and purpose: we eat, therefore we poop. However, I have never gotten you up at 5:30am in order to do this. And if I did, I know you would not give a fig, since you are not required to get up and take me to the bathroom. But really, Grady, you must have noticed the stomping, the snarling, and the one-sided conversation in a language you are not familiar with. This, I am sorry to say, is because a good portion of the words might be considered swearing.

So you see, there is a reason for those times when you hear a note of tension entering my voice. And that rough, grinding sound, well that would be my teeth clenching. Do you think maybe we could work on some of  it, Grady? Grady, are you listening? Wake up!

Breed: Golden Retriever


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