An Open Letter
Monday, March 13, 2006
Dearest Darling-est Doc-sicle,

With each day we spend together, my love for you grows, as does my confusion regarding some of your behavior. When I picked you up from the kennel last night, you did everything short of jumping four feet up and into my arms...yet when we went to bed, you refused to sleep in your bed, preferring to nestle amongst a big pile of dirty towels and blankets. At 4 am, you were sound asleep on top of an old beach towel that was pulled half out of a plastic, Whole Foods shopping bag. And to that I say, "WTF?!"

You behaved so well during your bath last night, simply standing still and waiting for it to end quickly...only to escape post-drying session and roll in circles all over the couch. No amount of Febreze can undo what you've done to that cushion.

Sometimes I look at you and think about what would have happened to you if I hadn't come along and adopted you from those nice people in Michigan. I wonder if you'd still be running around that enormous farm with the great danes, huskies, and boxers, thinking you were as big as they. My heart swells with love for you, and I just want to hug you forever like that annoying blond, pigtailed girl in the newer WB cartoons that squeezes people to death with too much emotion.

Then you do something stupid, like poop on the living room rug, and once again the universe is in balance.