The Dog Isn’t Exactly Thrilled About The New Addition

Dear Jamie,

I know it seems like I’m being a little informal, but I think we can both agree the term “master” is no longer appropriate since I peed in your mouth. (But we’ll get to that later.)

I’m writing you because I feel like we’ve grown distant lately, and I wanted to see if there was some way we could rectify it.

I know you have two little babies now that take up most of your attention, but I wanted to remind you that I’m your dog. My name is Max, and I was here long before those two maniacs joined our clan. Remember me? That crazy puggle that your lovely wife fell in love with at the pet store?

I know I was way cuter then, and maybe I’ve let myself go a little, but, let’s remember that I’m 11 now. That’s 77 years old to you, buddy. So, how about showing me the respect I deserve?

Look, I get it. I see that you and Kate are hanging on by a thread. I might be sleeping on the kitchen floor, but I can hear you guys up all night and I see you making those bottles at all hours. Those kids are a handful.

The older one, Hannah, keeps trying to ride me. She knows I’m not a pony, right?

And honestly, I can’t even imagine having puppies. But, that’s mainly because you neutered me when I, myself was a puppy. Yeah, don’t think I’ve forgotten about that…

Anyway, the reason for this letter is to let you know that I’m still an official part of this family, and I would like to be included more often. I know I have a problem with food, and that’s something I’m working on. It’s just tough because those kids are down at my level and covered with food. It’s like an alcoholic living in a liquor store.

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