My dogs can't read, but still:

An open letter to my Doodles:

Yankee, Murphy, Brenner

I do love you truly-madly-deeply, but honestly you have GOT to get a grip. This in-out-in-out-in-out thing is making me crazy. I appreciate that you’ve figured out the garage door sticks and so you are able to come in when the spirit moves you, but the barking to go back out 10 minutes later is maddening.  (Yes, I’m talking to YOU, Brenner.) Make a decision, for crying out loud. It’s too cold to be constantly in and out and in and out and in and out ….You are going to find the garage door blocked if this nonsense doesn’t stop.

Also, let’s discuss the morning routine. It’s the same every day of your sweet furry lives. No, The One Who Feeds You and Generally Cares for You (me) does not rise from her bed to start her day when it is still dark. I promise you — even if I’m up before dark, it must be because I was hydrating with gusto the night before. If you should find me upright but — and this is the key — the sky remains dark, then I am not going to stumble downstairs to let you out. Settle down and go back to sleep. The combination of the alarm and daylight are your two main clues that it’s time to get up. Nothing else.

Finally, common courtesy would dictate that you not knock over any house guests upon their arrival — or any other time, for that matter. You are a combined 232 pounds of Goldendoodle, and no one — no matter how much they like dogs — wants to see that heading their way from the moment they step out of the car. So for God’s sake, chill the  heck out. Keep all four paws on the floor.

A special note to Murphy: you are stuck here, until such time as you are rescued by Grandma. Please don’t use those big eyes of yours to beg rides out of the estate from whomever happens to drive up. The Fed Ex man will not save you. Neither will the Waste Management guy. It’s not SO bad here, is it?

Finally, talk among yourselves about who’s going to take the blame for what. The poop in the family room the other day was not a happy surprise and it would have been helpful if I could have known which one of you to be mad at for the duration of the day.  I’m clear who gets the blame for the gnawed-upon mouldings (yes, you again Brenner), but I suspect there might be other mischief going on that’s been blamed on one or another in error. We want justice to prevail here.

I think that’s it for now. As we prepare to call it a day around here, I’d be grateful if you can handle all of your personal grooming issues before we adjourn to the bedroom. There is nothing worse than the sound of three Doodles cleaning their various parts in the dark. Ick.

The One Who Feeds You and Generally Cares for You (me)

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2 Responses to “My dogs can't read, but still:”

  1. Bobbi Cecio Says:

    I read this aloud to some friends at the Village. I had to stop several times because I was laughing so hard I was crying and couldn’t see – as were they! I REALLY, REALLY think you should write a book!!

  2. Maggie Walsh Says:

    Mrs. Landers this post is so funny! Isabel gave me the URL to this because she said it was funny and I couldn’t stop laughing! I agree that you should write a book!!

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