Dear Grandmaw B.,

This may be my last post as a free dog. Mama L. came home after work today, to the scene of the crime, that I may or may not have committed. There is no way for her to prove this, of course, and therefore tomorrow Gingersnap! and I will both be sent to the crate, or prison, as I call it. I protested and pointed out to Mama L. that in America, we are all innocent until proven guilty, and that we should be given a fair and speedy trial in front of our peers. But Mama L. said that there were less than 12 dogs in our block and that the law only applies to humans anyway. Immediately, I think of a class action lawsuit, but she’s right, we don’t have enough dogs in our neighborhood to write a petition. (Note to self: I must ask my Lawyer Auntie Juniper about dog rights in this country, but I have a feeling she would just side with her.)

Mama L. is running about a couple of weeks behind on everything these days, so this Birthday wish is coming to you rather late. She’s been playing online scrabble with Amy Lee (And losing horribly. Who knew that “haj” was a real word?) But you should know that we wanted to send you something extra special for your birthday, so we asked Mama L. to send you homemade beef jerky because it is (currently) our most favorite thing in the universe! She gave us a tiny little piece to try this morning, and she uttered something about garlic being bad for dogs — isn’t that the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard of? But, anyway, WOW, it was the most delicious thing I have ever tasted! I think she made up that story about garlic being bad for us because she didn’t want to share. You should look for it in the mail because it’s on its way to you. Even though it’s your birthday present, it’s ok if you want to share with Grandpaw B. Unlike Mama L., we encourage sharing especially when it comes to food.

But not with Chester. Chester is Uncle Brian’s 5-month old puppy who now weighs more than both me and Gingersnap! combined. He has way too much energy and he’s super clumsy and he smells. Like a boy dog. And he’s not house-trained yet so he just pees wherever he wants. He’s a big dimbulb, if you ask me, but since he’s Uncle Brian’s dog, I suppose I should give him a break. Besides, Uncle Brian keeps referring to him as “Cousin Chester”, so I am supposed to love him or something. Anyway, over the weekend, Uncle Brian threw his back out, so the Mamas brought Chester home so that Uncle Brian didn’t have to go up and down the stairs to take Chester out to pee. Neither Little Sis nor I was too pleased about that. Little Sis downright snarled at him when he crawled up on Mama L’s lap. That was too much for Gingersnap! to handle. She can share her food and pizzle and treats — and even Mr. Squeaky Lion — but she was not willing to share Mama’s lap. I had to body-block Chester from Gingersnap! to keep him safe. That was a lot of work to do, as you can well imagine. I was exhausted by the time the Mamas took him back to Uncle Brian’s yesterday.

Speaking of exhaustion, I am utterly convinced that the Mamas intend to walk us to death again. Mama M. got some new hiking shoes (for Mama L. too!) Then one day, a big box arrived at the door and the Mamas were all excited about it. They were going on about treats for us — I thought we were going to get something yummy to eat, but no. It was a jacket. Or specifically, it was a jacket with big pockets on both sides. Mama L. said that it was our backpack — so that we can carry a bottle of water, a tennis ball, and maybe a few cookies on a long hike. I hate hikes! The last time I went on a long hike I was so exhausted that I slept for three days! I can tell Little G. is a little suspicious too. You can just tell she’s wondering if the Mamas were going to toss her in the pond again. (I know, that was a different kind of jacket. But Little G. doesn’t know that.)

But that was before Mama M. came home and saw what “we” did to her favorite shoes. Well, just the one shoe. Mama M. kept asking “Who did this?” for a couple of times until she realized that Little G. was about to pee from being so scared. You can always tell when she’s about to pee because Little G. would pull her lips way back like Vincent Price and look at you sideways. I don’t know who Vincent Price is, but that’s how Mama M. describes the look. You know I could never tell Mama M. who really did it, coz I know Little Sis would never tell on me. So Mama M. stopped yelling, but I know she’s conspiring with Mama L. for the woodwork incident and plans to send us to prison anyway. And then later she said she had bought two pairs of those shoes anyway, on account of us being wild.

Little does Mama M. knows, but we were only doing that to protect her from alligator shoes that Auntie Erin sent!


So, while we will never be as good as our new friend Bassa (you should read how she saves Christmas!), and while it’s extremely unlikely that Santa will bring us a bone for Christmas this year, I just want to go on record that we think you’re still the bestest Grandmaw in the world and that you’ll have the bestest birthday year ever!


(and Gingersnap! too)


One thought on “Dear Grandmaw B.,

  1. Very funny post – I loved it! Don’t worry. I have studied the evidence and the damage to the wall is clearly the result of termites! Not so sure about the shoe though – I think you may have to take the heat for that one 🙂

    Thank you for mentioning my Christmas story. I am sure Santa will bring you something good!

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