Hey. It’s Violet. Yeah. Your dog. I need to talk.
So, sit. Yeah. Good boy.
I don’t know where you learned how to treat dogs, but it's not right. If you love me like you say you do, you have a real weird way of showing it. You’re not gonna like what I’m about to say, but you need to hear it.
You gave me a cute name. And this dope collar. You taught me some tricks. But I’m from the fucking streets! Stop this “Who rescued who?” shit. You were doing real good before me. I was eating out of trash cans. DON’T SCRATCH MY HEAD I’M TRYING TO MAKE A POINT! Did you pick me up in a Subaru Outback? With a trunk full of NPR tote bags? I’m still mostly a wild animal. And not the kind that’s gonna stop you from having a seizure. If I ever rescue you, there’s gonna be blood.
And while we’re here, stop pretending that going to the dog park is for me. You think I’m having a good time running around with all the other dogs. You just don’t get it. Every one of us is sizing everyone else up. Trying to figure out who’s in charge. That way if shit goes down we know who the alpha is so we can take ‘em down. NO I DON’T WANT TO PLAY WITH THE BALL RIGHT NOW I WANT YOU TO LISTEN TO ME! All those guys sniffing my ass? That’s not cute… they all want a piece of this. It would be nice if they didn’t run off as soon as they find out I’m fixed. Just take me on a walk next time. You could use the exercise, too.
Are you listening? I’m not done yet. I SWEAR TO GOD YOU WILL PUT THOSE TREATS AWAY UNTIL I AM FINISHED! I am a dog. A 90-pound dog. Stop treating me like a human baby. Don’t put me in a sweater. I have fur, dummy. I’m made to live outside. Don’t make me “sign a birthday card” with my paw print, either. That one just doesn’t make sense. Is your signature a handprint? No! You use a pen because you have thumbs which is what separates our species.
And stop saying I’m “adopted.” Jesus Christ. Your sister… the one that waited for years of heartbreak to adopt a baby… she’s gonna kick me if you keep saying that shit.
Last thing, and then we can go. You’re really comfortable around me now. Too comfortable. I may not be a person, but I have eyes and ears and a nose. Maybe give me a heads up before you decide to change when I’m in the room. Or put me out in the hall for a minute. Maybe if you’re having trouble picking an outfit you could put a towel on while you’re deciding. WHAT DID I FUCKING TELL YOU ABOUT SCRATCHING MY HEAD RIGHT NOW! AND I KNOW WHERE YOUR HANDS HAVE BEEN THAT’S WHAT I’M TRYING TO TELL YOU! Have some decency, man. You’re the superior species.
I don’t need to be in the room for everything you do. If you bring home a girl, just let me leave for a minute. And I’ve been trained to know what the laptop means. Really, I can go. I don’t know what a stepmom is, but I’d rather not be in the room when you look at one anymore.
You okay, boy? You look sad. You’re a good boy, you just don’t know any better. Just think a little, okay? That’s what makes you a person. Now why don’t you get those treats back out and then we’ll go outside so I can take a shit and eat it?