My dearest, most darling, precious, adorable, patient, loving, loyal, understanding Sandy Paws,
Once again, I feel I must write you this note to assure you that everything some things you have heard this year about me simply are not true, grossly exaggerated, have another side to the story.
Like that incident in the garbage last week. C'mon. Even you would have dumpster dived to get that flank steak juice-soaked paper towel. It's totally not my fault that Daddy didn't empty the can. (He calls it a 'set-up' when Mommy has trash teetering on top; I call it an invitation to rummage.) The kitchen was sort of a mess by the time I dug it out. Especially when I also found some other paper along the way. You KNOW how I love, love, love paper...and Mommy really should have recycled it, so again....not my fault.
And then, there was that time that Mommy went in one door to the bathroom and out the other and closed the door. (Of course, I tried to follow her.) I had to sort of eat the door down. What else could a scared and somewhat frantic pup do? She had left me!! (No, I was NOT locked in the bathroom...I could have used the open door, BUT SHE LEFT THROUGH THE ONE THAT WAS CLOSED AND I HAD TO FOLLOW HER!!!!!) I'm to be pitied, not punished, right?
Back to that paper problem I have. I admit it. I have an addiction. (Again, something to be pitied, not punished.) And my very favorite paper is yarn ball bands. I'm not sure why this should be a problem, though. I've trained Mommy to list everything on Ravelry, so it's not my fault if she fails to do this---or fails to note dye lots and runs out of yarn. I never ever ever touch the yarn. NEVER. Just the ball bands. Mom just needs to get more organized. And the floors always are much cleaner in general after she has swept up all the itty shredded paper pieces. In a way, I'm actually a helper, right?
Just look at how patient I am....see above photo. It only took about twenty minutes to capture that shot. I hate wearing clothes.
Last night Mommy had some friends over to knit. I discovered that eggnog (with just a 'splash' of bourbon) is the most delicious thing ever---next to flank-steak-juice and chocolate chip cookies, of course.
My new best friend in the whole world (next to MOM of course) let me lick her cup clean! YUMMY. I'll leave some out for you with some of those cookies. (Yes, this IS a bribe. Remember to spit out the chocolate chips--they aren't good for dogs. I, personally, take my chances with the chocolate. They are really REALLY good.) Anyway, I am not schnoockered in this picture. Just very very mellow.
I have not stolen a single thing out of anyone's purse or knitting bag in a really long time (at least two weeks or more!) and I continue to find everyone who walks into our house my new second best friend (remember, no one will ever top my MOM!---EVER.) I'm getting old, over 10 now, so I must be excused for some personal habits that not everyone finds endearing. (Maybe the fact that I've started eating my poop is accounting for me passing gas more frequently? You wouldn't have any info on that, would you? )
So, as you can tell, I've really been a perfect, an exceptionally good, a really loving friend all year long, so it's OK to feel free to leave me lots of goodies.
Anything with a paper tag would be ever so much appreciated.
Love, (and wags, and slobberly, stinky kisses)
I think that was a pretty good letter, but I'm still worried.