Dear Human of Mine,
As the cat of the house, I feel compelled to share with you my thoughts about the dog -- or more accurately, the dog problem.
The floppy-eared fur ball was sort-of cute when you brought the little puppy home a year ago. But the eat-machine has since swelled into gargantuan proportions. He may have an eating disorder. He gobbles up wads of gross stuff outside and anything he can get his mouth on inside, including my food. MY FOOD. We have to get rid of him.
But aside from all that and his propensity for drooling, have you noticed he is always on the wrong side of the door? I think he forgets why he wanted to go out so he wants to come back in. He's not very bright.
Do you know what he does when you leave the house? He gets up on your bed. He does unnatural things to the sofa pillows. He also stands on his hind legs and licks the countertops. LICKS with his long slimy tongue! So gross.
When he gets bored, he comes lookin' for trouble. Yup. Lookin' for me. He knows he is no match for me but because he's not so smart, he tries over and over to sneak up on me when he thinks I'm sleeping. But I'm not sleeping. I'm contemplating how to get rid of him with my eyes closed.
It's embarrassing how he runs to the door when you get home, wagging his butt and his tail, all wild and excited. So you've been gone for an hour. Who cares? He is so needy.
Anyhoo, think about how much better the house will smell with only those of us who actually bathe ourselves. We could live in peace and serenity without the hairy beast. Just you and me, like it used to be.
Give it some thought.
Oh, by the way, one of your new running shoes is buried in the back yard under the porch.