Letter to Oscar the Dog

Dear Oscar,

As you might have sensed, I am experiencing a certain degree of frustration with your recent dog-like behaviour.  In fact, I am ready to kill you and mount you on my mantle where you will cause less damage.

I am afraid that if these annoying habits persist, I may have to start treating you like the dog you are.

First of all, I have a huge problem with the way you manipulate humans in our house.  This is evident in the way you trick us into letting you out to poop when you do not need to go!  Your urgent yapping at the door which once signalled a genuine biological need has become nothing more than disingenuous desire to chase neighbours down the road.  It’s over.  Further, we paid good money to train you to come back when called, so get with the damned program, dog!  The cheese treat was supposed to be a temporary measure to provide you with positive reinforcement for coming when called.  You know what come means so stop holding out for the cheese.  You’ve gained 20% of your body weight since we introduced cheese into your diet, and you are starting to look more like a pot-bellied pig than a toy poodle.  Also, stealing the cheese and running back out will result in your immediate imprisonment in the little cage we can refer to as your own personal prison.  Be grateful dog.  In some countries, we’d cut off your guilty little paw.

You need to improve on the way you show affection.  Humans do not like being licked on the face by a creature that also licks the bums of random animals.  I have seen you eat your own vomit, so keep your wet tongue to yourself in the future.  Dancing in circles around me when I get home from work is also getting old.  I used to think it meant you were excited to see me but now I realize that you are just self-centered and demanding. “Look at me!”  “Look at me!  If you don’t I will trip you and you will fall over the stairs to your doom.”  Then you will chase me down the stairs and lick me to death, probably.

Another thing we have to discuss is the garbage.  Otherwise known as your own personal buffet and shopping center rolled into one.  We feed you 60 dollar a bag organic dog food for a reason.  We do not enjoy trying to clean spaghetti off white fur any more than you enjoy eating the shampoo.  We were told that poodles are a smart breed but I question the intelligence of anyone who eats tin foil and kitty litter from the garbage.  Out of respect for your dignity, I won’t even get into the chocolate Easter bunny fiasco.  Just remember it felt better on the way in.  Oh, and while we’re on the subject of garbage. Humans place items in the garbage for a purpose.  We want to dispose of them.  We do not want to see the dirty tissue paper, diapers, etc... ever again.  Especially not in front of guests at dinnertime.   That will also land you in the crate in isolation.  Eating tissue that people sneezed into is a faux pas.   It’s just not done.  Do we understand each other?

The cats asked me to mention a few things as well.  They actually prefer to clean themselves.  Cookie said to tell you he’s superior to you with regards to personal hygiene and has never needed to be bathed by humans.  It’s beneath him and he does not want to be slurped on by you in the future.  That’s one of the reasons he scratches your eyes out, so it would be advisable to discontinue the practice.  Immediately.  They are not interested in playing fetch with you either.  Rolling your tennis ball to them and looking at them with your puppy dog eyes will not change their minds.  Can’t you read their unaffected stares of derision and contempt?

The last thing I want to make clear is the fact that I will let you know if I want to go for a walk.  The pressure campaign you wage daily must stop or our next walk will be to the SPCA.  I actually know where the leash is and I don’t appreciate you following me around with it.  I know you’d put it around my neck if you could.  But I am the human here, and I will let you know if we are going for a walk.  Putting on those booties or trying to get into your coat, while admittedly cute, will not move me.  When we go for a walk, I lead, you heel.  We’ve been through this at obedience school so apply it at home.  Or we’re going back to summer school with the Rottweiler’s and shepherds.   Just because I follow behind you and scoop your poop does not mean you are in charge of the situation.  You may have outwitted me on occasion, but I am still bigger than you.  Size matters, and you’re a toy breed.  Don’t forget it.

Sincerely,

Your best friend