Dear Dad,
Every day is Father’s Day as far as I’m concerned, but I wish the rest of the pack knew that. I show you total love and devotion 365 days a year, yet your humans think they can be extra nice to you one day a year and that’s acceptable? Puh-lease. They could be doing so much better. Maybe I should teach lessons, or something.
For example, when you walk through the door I get my butt off the couch and walk over to greet you. The humans could be doing this too, but they don’t. I have never, not once in the seven years that I’ve lived here, seen your wife do poodle spins when you came home from work. I know she’s capable of spinning in circles, she just doesn’t. Is she lazy or does she not love you as much as I do? You be the judge.
I could also give lessons on adoring looks. Take couch sitting, for example. The rest of the pack scrolls through their phones, reads, or watches television when they’re on the sofa. Sometimes they do all three things at once! But what they should be doing, is staring lovingly at you without blinking. There’s nothing in the entire world that is as exciting as you. That’s why if you’re home, and I’m awake, I gaze at you, including when you go to the bathroom. Your wife says I’m a creeper, but she’s just jealous that I don’t gaze at her like that, even though she’s the one who feeds me.
The last tip I think humans should learn on Father’s Day is about sleep. You know me, I can sleep whenever, or wherever. I’m the napping master. Unlike the tiny humans, I might add, who never sleep when you want them to. Then, when they grow older, they sleep at the wrong time, like when they’re supposed to be getting ready for Sunday brunch reservations at your favorite restaurant.
For the record, I would never be late to brunch if you invited me. I would lick the plates too—all of them! Think how much that would help the dishwashing staff. But I’m not going to dwell on you forgetting to include me in brunch reservations because my feelings are already hurt and I don’t want to howl.
Back to the subject of sleeping and how much better I am at it than your humans, does your wife nap at your feet while you’re on Zoom calls for work? No, she doesn’t, because she’s not as devoted to you as I am. What a— (I’m not going to say it, but you know what word I’m thinking.)
To recap: I treat every day like it’s Father’s Day, and I think your humans should, too. The pack would be lost without you.
Love,
Your dog
P.S. If your wife makes steak tonight could I have a little nibble? Pleeeeease?
Jennifer Bardsley publishes books under her own name and the pseudonym Louise Cypress. Find her online on Instagram @jenniferbardsleyauthor, on Twitter @jennbardsley or on Facebook as Jennifer Bardsley Author. Email her at teachingmybabytoread@gmail.com.
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