TO: Mr. and Mrs. Arnold
FROM: Archie (Remember Me?), the Dog
SUBJECT: My Status
Please excuse the formality of this letter; I should have called. I heard through the grapevine that you miss me. I knew this would happen. Well, I’ve died and gone to heaven (figuratively speaking).
You know, it was probably a good thing we parted. From the word “Go,” (as in “Not there!”) we had our differences. Let’s face it; you’re just not that into me.
I was so lonely when you took Tickle Me Elmo away, but now I have a sister. MyNewMom wrote a book about her (… “Poodle from Hell”). She’s tried to kill me three times, but MyNewMom says she was just having a bad hair day — which is a perpetual condition because she won’t let the groomer touch her. The situation has improved since I put a hole in her head.
MyNewMom takes me shopping every week, and the first trip I had a big, juicy steak on the ride home! You know how I used to beg? His-to-ry! MyNewMom and her husband mostly eat these little packages from the freezer, giving MyNewMom time to cook my pot roast and chicken which she tosses with a miniscule amount of kibble. MyNewDad eats a lot of low fat burritos and wonders where the justice is in this. I’m becoming a gourmet.
None of that Canine Good Citizen nonsense anymore! I picked up pretty quick on the rules here: four “NO!s” equal a “yes.” My sister has her own motor home with personal license plates — BUBYZ RV! MyNewMom says the car — the one dad drives — will be mine if he ever gets around to giving it a mercy cleaning.
I have lots of new friends, like “Bert the Perfect Poodle.” Bert’s a real stud. He has to go to work a couple times a month, and he comes back really tired but happy. Apparently Bert qualified for this job by entering a lot of contests. I wanted to tag along, but MyNewMom said “work” is a four-letter word in our household … if you’re a dog.
Remember how you used to take me to the groomer every month? Well! My new groomer comes to me – every three months! No tugging and pulling — I get shaved! She talks to herself a lot when MyNewMom isn’t here — something about a world shortage of dog brushes? I don’t know, but she never mentions it to MyNewMom.
You used to say I was the apple of your eye. Well, now I’m the center of the universe! MyNewMom says dad’s from Mars, but I’m heaven-sent. You and I had a nice run (no pun intended), but it’s over. I herewith remit to you my “papers.” I am now just “Archie from the block.”
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