Hi, HazelNutCoffee, I saw your ad and I’m applying.
W3t…it wasn’t an application? and I’m a
Dear Emily,
Yes, I know you’re the Boss Cat, and we are here to do your bidding. And I realize that I’m a very poor human for not going to bed each evening as early as you want me to. But could you please, please not wait till I’m 90% asleep every single night and then stick your cold nose up against my face? You know you’re my bestest cat, and you know I’m going to pet you and snuggle you all night. All I ask is to keep the nose out of my face. Please? I’ll keep the gushy food coming on time, promise!
love, Mom
Dear Isaac,
You are a very silly dog. You’ve known since the day you walked in our house that you were the animal at the bottom of the pack, canine or human. That was six years ago. So could you please not jump on Rusty every time you think you might have a chance of increasing your stature? It’s not going to work. It never has, and it never will. Rusty knows he’s the alpha dog, and you know that when he gets sick of you pushing him, he puts you in your place flat on your back every time. We’ll all still love you even if you’re the bottom of the pack, really! Promise!
love, Mom
Dear Rusty,
I realize you were born with the wiring in your brain all mixed up and the single functioning brain cell only firing on rare occasions. But every time it’s ever stormed since we brought you home, haven’t we taken care of you? Haven’t I stayed up half the night cuddling you, and done everything from medication to an Anxiety Wrap™ to heartbeat music to help you feel better? Can’t you just once figure out that it’s really going to be okay, and you don’t have to be such a scaredy-dog? We’re very happy that you’re not getting upset nearly as often since we left Louisiana, but we’re still not going to ever let anything hurt you. You’re the sweetest doggie in the whole world, and you’ll always be my big baby boy, and you know that!
love, Mom
Dear Jack,
I wish you’d stop stripping the logs by the fireplace. One of these days your “toothpicks” may get lodged somewhere in that big malamute tummy of yours, and you’re not going to like it. Neither will Daddy, Ember, or I.
And what is it with you and fiber? If it’s not the logs, it’s napkins or TP. I walk into a bathroom and I can automatically tell you’ve been there because of the way you chew the roll. Jagged strips everywhere. streamers attached to the roll, chewed-up bits of confetti all over the floor. What’s up with that anyway?
Love,
Your Very Perplexed “Mom”
Dear Ember,
Jack doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just a very big boy who doesn’t know his own strength. He doesn’t mean to land on you when the two of you play-fight. He doesn’t mean to hurt you. He’ll try to apologize in his own doggie way. And when he does, that doesn’t mean you have to go after him hell-bent on getting the last word. Good lord, I never knew what a little witch resided inside of otherwise very sweet you :eek:
Love,
“Mom”
Apparently the blackberry gods dislike me.
Harumph.
Dear Picante,
Look, I know you’re a gecko and thus not the sharpest tool in the shed. But it’s be real nice if, after you ate one worm from your worm feeder, you could clue up and realize there are lots more worms in the feeder! And go back for them. So Daddy doesn’t have to stand over you, making sure you eat? Please?
Love, Mommy
Dear Red & Gamra:
Look. You, Gamra, are small, so you get one pellet of turtle food. You, Red, are bigger, so you get two pellets. You are temporarily housed together until Daddy can get you guys set up. You seem to get along together for 23 hours and 59 minutes a day, could you NOT fight each other when the food comes? Don’t bite!
Love, Mommy
Dear Jet Jaguar
Listen man, we’re buds, right? You’re my pal, so I have to warn you…stop poking me in the face with your paws in the middle of the night. Just like you I need to sleep. Unlike you I can’t sleep all day long. Waking me up for ear scratches and perhaps a treat at 4 AM isn’t cool, man. I have high blood pressure so I don’t enjoy being shocked out sleep with your paw. You’re gonna give me a freaking heart attack.
Also, I understand that you might not like crapping in a full litterbox. But showing your displeasure by crapping in the spare room by my DVD case is definitely not cool. I know its you, too. You realize that one of these days you’re gonna make me go nuclear, right? Just take a dump in one of the litterboxes and find a non-shitting on the floor way to let me know about the fullness and I’ll clean it. Its not a fun job, either so show some appreciation.
Dear** Banshee**
You know I love you Bansh. You’re my favorite. You know I love giving you belly-wubs. But stop living up to your namesake. Howling up and down the hallway at night is driving me insane.
I know you love me too. But that doesn’t mean you get to rub cat hair on everything I own. I’m going to find out how you manage to get your hair through the garment bag and onto my dress blues. Also, how long have we known each other? 10 years? Haven’t you noticed that no matter how much you cry I’m still going to leave for work in the morning?
Dear 'Stache
We all know you’re the queen. But guess what, your majesty? I’m still the boss. Do you know why? Because I have a fuckin’ job! So stop putting on a show when you want your food changed. You’re lucky to be eating. Not are there 2 bowls of dry food and two bowls of wet food you get fed twice a day. A lot of people and animals all over the world would love to get fed that much while they did nothing but sleep all day. When you manage to go to the supermarket and buy a ton of cat food, carry it up the damned stairs and open the cans yourself you can get to choose. I mean, I’m paying for this stuff! And you’re lucky! Mrs. Jolly Roger gives you fancy feast. She’s gonna end up being the neighborhood crazy cat lady when I’m gone.
Dear Mrs. Jolly Roger
Stop giving the cats tuna. Thats ME food. Seriously, its pissing me off.
Dear Bailey,
The couch is never, never going to sneak up and pounce you. The floor will continue to be there. I promise. Could you please stop worrying about the ferocious and unstable furniture, and, if you have to worry, worry about your idiot sister pouncing you or something? Something real?
Also, you don’t want to go into the apartment hallway. The door is not the Door Into Happiness. Whenever you leave the apartment you freak out. So please stop singing sadly in front of it every night.
Love,
Mommy
May I address these to some dogs I know well, though they’re not actually mine? I see them virtually every day at work, since they’re there for daycare or else belong to my boss. They’re certainly my friends.
Dear Pip,
Please don’t jump on me. I know you’re energetic, and I know your owners haven’t had you long and you were a rescue and apparently nobody along the line taught you very many manners. I also know you’re very sweet and friendly and appealing. I’d never met a Viszla before and now have a very positive view of your breed. But the jumping at me has GOTTA STOP! You should understand now that when you jump at me I yell “NO!” and turn around and deliberately ignore you. This shouldn’t need to happen every day, or even multiple times a day. You’re a nice dog and you have a nice family and (incidentally) they pay us nice money to watch you. So just don’t jump, and everything will be fine.
Dear Coco,
STOP GETTING ON THE COUNTER!!! I know you’re a puppy. I know you know you aren’t supposed to be up there because you’ve started heading back down whenever I catch you up there, except for when clients pet you because, well, you’re just so damn cute I can’t blame them. But you’re not allowed up there. You’re just a little Dachshund and you could hurt yourself very badly if you fell off. Nobody wants that. Also we figure you could really tear up the retail half of the shop. There’s a reason I call you Little Miss Trouble. But I honestly like you, because you’re really a sweet little thing. And I don’t normally like dachshunds. So stay off the damn counter.
Dear Ruthie,
The counter thing goes for you as well, except that’s a lot harder to yank a Clumber off the counter than it is a dachshund. And you tend to jump all the way over, which might almost be okay except that you shoplift if left unattended up front. You’re a beautiful, beautiful wonderful show dog. Try acting with a bit more dignity, like your packmate!
Dear Kaya,
Just shut up if we’re brushing you. You’re a Samoyed, you have hair and more hair on top of a layer of hair. You need brushing. Way more than you get, because you start wailing at the top of your lungs. Quit being so bratty and you will look even more gorgeous than you can imagine because you’re beautiful to begin with.
I could keep going, probably, but I’ll stop here. Working at a grooming shop is a never-ending adventure!
My dearest Brandybuck,
We have always wondered why you cannot stand to have a door closed in a room where you are.
At night, I would really like to try to sleep with the bedroom door closed.
I would like to go to the bathroom alone, with the door closed.
Why do you constantly feel the desire to go in and out of any door, in the room that you happen to be in?
There is nothing there to see, well, nothing that you haven’t seen a gazillion times already.
Nothing has changed in the area that you had just went to check not one minute before. We know how all of you cats detest change, so, we don’t change too much.
Do you think you could possibly try to manage your OCD habit of going-in-and-out-of-the-door?
I hope so.
You’ve been with us for nearly 10 years, and you have done this from day one.
Please try to control yourself.
One more thing…When do you have the time to sleep?
Love you,
Mummy
Dear Max,
You are not a cat. I don’t know how this confusion started but you are unable to balance on high places such as the top of the sofa. Please refrain from falling asleep up there. Unlike cats, you do not land on your feet but on your head or your hip. I can no longer afford to pay vet bills because you are having an identity crisis.
Much Love,
Your human bill payer.
PS Carpets are for walking and napping, not pooping. You manage it just fine when I am home so stop being so spiteful or the doggie gates go back up and you won’t get to snooze on the back of your favorite sofa at all.
Dear Buffy,
You’re the beta for what Meerkat Manor would describe as “the most successful colony of rats in the area.” I drive six hours round trip to purchase only the best food for you and your cagemates. You drink from a bottle large enough to satisfy the needs of a water buffalo. Your gigantic cage is lined with multiple layers of soft, and expensive, fleece blankets. At your disposal are the grooming services of Zoe, a rat so thorough that reef cleaner fish use her as an example. You have the right to box, kangaroo kick, shove, and generally boss around, an entire group of other rats. Did I mention that there are cabins and hammocks liberally spread around your territory for all your snoozing needs? In short, you’ve got an awfully good life for a rat who was destined for snake food. There is, in fact, only one thing you’re not permitted to do: harass Jamie.
I know, she’s hairless and smaller than you are, and she looks like an easy target for your bossiness. She’s not. Better rats than you have tried and failed to usurp her position as alpha. She’s smarter, faster, and more determined than you are. She has proven this time and time again. And it’s not as though she really has any interest in interacting with you or anyone else in the cage. Her Garbo impersonation is superb. So please, just leave her be and everyone, human and rodent, will be a lot happier.
I do enjoy your patented Buffy Stare of Death. I think it’s hilarious how both people and rats cringe from it. Just remember: no one who has ever seen the BSoD would consider offering you refuge if I kick you out on your furry butt for harassing Jamie. So knock it off.
Love and scritches,
Rat Nanny
Dear Tulip,
The magical moustache of beer and leftovers is not replenished with fresh scents every 45 seconds. Please restrain yourself from constantly checking for updates. Sheesh, you’re lke a Doper hitting the refresh button constantly to see if anyone thought they were funny.
Love from Daddy
[refresh]
[refresh]