Dear Dog Parent,
Thank you for filling out our 18-page doggy daycare application; providing your dog’s medical records and a full-body x-ray of his body (as well as an x-ray of your body, although that was unnecessary); arranging for us to interview your veterinarian, your dog walker, two of your neighbors and one of the clerks at the pet shop where you purchase your dog food, toys and other supplies; sharing handles for all of your dog’s social media accounts, including his LinkedIn; and being brave enough to join us for an interview smack dab in the center of our doggy mosh pit.
We truly appreciate the effort you made to earn your dog a slot at our facility. But admission to our doggy daycare is highly competitive, and unfortunately, we will not be able to admit your dog. Please note that your dog is not at fault. We don't have a problem with your dog. We have a problem with you.
For starters, you named your dog Sausage. If your dog was a dachshund, this moniker might make sense. But your dog is a German Shepherd that does not, in any way, resemble a breakfast link, bratwurst, kielbasa or any other type of sausage. Frankly, we don’t know what the hell you were thinking, and no one on our staff would feel comfortable referring to your dog by this ridiculous name. (Not that this will change our decision, but if you are open to re-naming him, we have a suggestion: Sonny Bone-O. He looks like a Sonny Bone-O to us.)
Also, we took the liberty of reaching out to the breeder from which you purchased your dog and were shocked to discover that you turned down an invitation to be present at your dog’s birth, therefore you did not have skin-to-skin contact with him within the first hour of his life and missed out on a crucial bonding opportunity.
So, why weren’t you there? If you had a reasonable excuse (like, say, you had to undergo an emergency appendectomy only to have to immediately go back under the knife just two hours later for an emergency gallbladder removal, or you were trapped at the bottom of a well after reaching in to retrieve what appeared to be a gold watch but turned out to be a candy bar wrapper), we might understand. But, according to your breeder, you rejected the invitation because you didn’t want to reschedule your vacation. While there will always be another opportunity to cavort in Cancun, your dog is only born once. You should have been there.
Another thing: On October 23, 2019, you posted a photo on your dog’s very own Instagram account of him wearing a sign around his neck that read: “I’m a piggy, cheese-stealing asshole.” In the accompanying text, you chastised your dog for stealing a $25 hunk of Parmigiano Reggiano off your table during a dinner party and devouring it in front of your guests. Publicly shaming your dog was wrong. Publicly shaming your dog for loving cheese of all things—who doesn’t love cheese?—is beyond the pale.
And, finally, during your in-person interview, you dared to declare within earshot of your dog, “I like dogs. But, to be honest, I’m more of a cat person.” You might recall that we promptly ended the interview after you dropped that bombshell on us. That kind of talk does not go over well at our facility. In fact, it is forbidden.
All this said, we do accept new applications quarterly and strongly encourage you to apply again!
All the best,
Doggy Daycare Admissions Committee