Dear Flash

Dear Flash,

First of all, hold your horses with the threats - I have ordered you a brand-new collar and leash. A South Carolina collar and leash, nonetheless. You're welcome. Unfortunately, it won't be here until Monday, so until then you are stuck with the pink collar. So sorry (not really).

Believe me, I too am glad the Old Man is home for a few days. Dealing with you is not always sunshine and roses. I blame myself; I have turned you into a bit of a spoiled rotten entitled basset hound. Like how you have now starting barking at me while I eat my dinner and continue barking until I share with you. Or, how you have my claimed my lap as your own, and refuse to let Miss Lulu sit in my lap or anywhere near me because that's your territory. Not to mention that I have caught you red-handed chewing the devil green couch several times lately and all you do is give me a yawn and continue chewing. I won't even go into the recent protesting on all the walks - just plopping down mid-walk and refusing to move any further until you are ready.

The Old Man won't take your sh*t, Dear Flash. So I would advise you not to complain too much about being left home alone with me. It's funny how quickly you forget the corn dogs, bones, two new toys and leftover hamburger patties I gave you in the Old Man's absence.

Hrmph.
Your Mother