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OPEN LETTER TO MY DOG
 Dear Elmo,
I know you can not read but I am hoping someday someone can sit down with you and read this to you. You have brought so much love and happiness to our family. You have been our pet for over a year now and we do not ever regret the day we picked you up at a yard sale. It is not often people get their pets from a yard sale. There were many things that decided we would take you home with us. The most important thing was the people were giving you away for free. Free is good. That always helps in the decision making department. We decided to keep the name you were named, since you were used to it (even though the name was disappointing to me as I always preferred Ernie or Bert on Sesame Street.) Things started out well. You sat between my two sons on the two hour drive home, licking their faces constantly. Unfortunately the people that gave you away must have forgotten to inform us you have a weak stomach. We realized this when you puked really good a couple of times in the back seat. Mother, father, two sons, a dog and puke in a small car do not usually make for the most enjoyable two hour drive home... Anyway, you have been a very good dog. I think you like living with us, although I am sure you have had your "rough" days. (That was a lame dog joke I hope someone can explain to you later.) Unlike the last dog we had (for two days...) you do not chew on television remote controls, (which is a serious offense in this family) and you do not chew the crotch out of the families underwear. Don't get a swelled head though, as you are not perfect. You see, Elmo, we once had a backyard. It was not perfect but it did have grass. Thanks to you, it is now a series of cute, very deep holes. I measured the deepness of one of the holes and it was over two feet deep. I didn't know whether to congratulate you or give you a good boot. You love to dig holes, don't you? I often wonder why you could not be satisfied digging in one spot. I would happily give you a corner of the yard to dig in. You could dig the day away until your paws were bleeding. If we were planning to have an in ground swimming pool, your digging would not matter at all but Elmo, we are not getting a pool. The other thing that bothers me is the walks we have together. I do not like running while I am walking you. You are always pulling on the leash. Do you not realize if you calmed down a little and walked slower, the leash would not be strangling you to death? You do not look very comfortable with your eyes popped out of their sockets and your tongue dragging on the sidewalk. I also realize that you like to pee on our walks. What irritates the hell out of me is that you have to pee on anything that resembles a pole. Every few feet, you have to stop, sniff around and relieve yourself. Does the urine never stop? I would prefer you let it all out of your system at one pit stop. I would gladly wait there half an hour while you emptied your bladder. All in all, you've been a fine dog. Hold your head up high. Just do me one favor. The next time my wife and I are alone and I call her over to the couch by saying "Hey baby, why don't you sit over here with me!" could you not jump up on the couch and cozy up to me? Thanks. I'd appreciate it, buddy. Dear Elmo, It has been three years since I wrote the above story. Since that time you have been through some changes. The most notable of the changes has been you are now fixed. It is nice that we have something in common besides both being in a dog house on occasion. I seriously thought that after you were fixed that you would calm down a little on our walks but NO...you are the same over hyped dog you have always been. I must commend you though on the fact that you have not puked in our car for a few months. I still get tears in my eyes when I remember that special day last summer when the family went to the beach. We decided to take you with us. After traveling for half an hour we got to the beach area and the roads became very curvy. Dogs with sensitive stomachs usually do not appreciate curvy roads. You threw up just like the good old days really good. It was hotter than hell out. A husband, wife, two sons, a dog, puke and unbearable heat in a small car do not make for a fun trip to the beach. You loved being in the water and I had never seen you so happy (except for maybe digging in our backyard...) All dogs at the beach had to be kept on a leash but I thought you would behave and not take off. I was right and you did behave, before taking off thirty seconds later when you saw other dogs a few miles down the beach... I really enjoyed my fifty yard long barefooted run along the stony beach as I yelled and cursed and cut my foot on the cute little jagged rocks. Your day at the beach was cut short as Daddy decided to take you back home so we could enjoy the rest of our day at the beach without a major headache. Naturally, on the way home there were curves in the road and you puked up a storm. Just you, me and puke in a small car driving into the sunset. It was almost romantic... (Elmo passed away in November of 2006 from cancer and this story is dedicated to the best dog I ever had.) |
