Listen to the dramatic reading by Court Sullivan!

Thank you, thank you so much.

For generations, all of dogkind has pondered the age-old question: Who is a good dog? Is it me? Is it? Is it???

But now that I have been awarded this honor, we finally know.

I can’t say that I feel like I deserve it. Me, a simple house pet, chosen over the likes of Lassie, Balto and Rin Tin Tin, all very good dogs. Not police dogs, not seeing-eye dogs, no—it’s me. I’m the good dog. Me!

My tail just will not stop wagging!

I’d like to thank my obedience trainer, without whom I would never have mastered “sit,” “stay,” and “shake,” certainly the fundamentals of being a good dog.

I’d also like to thank my owners, who adopted me and take me for walks and have always taught me to question just who is a good dog, who is it, is it me?

I’d also like to thank my colleague and dear friend Biscuit, who is, if not a good dog, certainly a satisfactory one.

And to all the puppies in the audience who are wondering, Can I be a good dog too? Yes, yes, you can, even if you chew on your owner’s slippers and dig up the backyard and occasionally piddle on the floor. Because it is not these minor qualities that comprise a good dog; instead, it comes from within. You must look inwards and ask yourself: Am I a good dog? Am I? Am I???

And no, being a good dog is not about this award, or the treats and tennis balls and belly rubs that accompany it. Being a good dog is about so much more—man’s best friend and all that, but I won’t bore you with the specifics. Being a good dog is not about you; it is about others, and the joy they derive from our proud and distinguished species.

Thank you again, and always remember, even though it is I and not you being honored with this award, you are still, to me, all very good dogs. Yes, you are. You are!

And now, if you'll excuse me, I am off to chase squirrels.