Dear Dog

You are now over a year old, an age when I think a few things should be perfectly clear.


The crate is a pain in the rear for all of us.  You don't like going into it.  We don't like the space it takes up in the kitchen.  Stop pooping on the carpet and we can put this whole thing behind us.


No, you can't have your bed in the crate at night.  You ate your last one.  And the way you flip the new one around... well, we're just not taking any chances, are we?


You need not follow me into the restroom.  Even Mad will let me go alone most of the time, and she's younger than you in dog years.  If you do happen to push your nose in and join me, do not make faces at any sounds you might hear.  I don't judge what you do in your private moments, do I?  Or if I do, it's to cheer you on.  Maybe look a little less perplexed and a bit more rah rah if you insist on coming in.


And speaking of private moments, you're old enough to go outside and do your business alone.  Peeing on the concrete because I am standing inside does not earn you any treats.


Running in the house is fine, as long as you don't knock anyone over.  We'd love to take you for walks, but you ate your leash.  A new leash has been placed on The List of Things We'd Like to Have But Are Not High Priorities Today.  When we get through the list and down to the new leash, we'll let you know.


That's enough for now.  Next time we'll address your other problems, like digging holes and pooping on the compost.  Until then, mind your manners.