Complaining isn’t my style, but on behalf of my canine brethren, there are a few things I’d like to get off my silky chest. First of all, it’s terribly annoying to be spoken to like a toddler. I realize I’m unusually cute, but according to the human calendar I’m pushing fifty. Please speak to me the way you’d converse with a savvy college graduate.
Of course it’s nice to be caressed, but if I’m trying to grab a few zzzzs, find someone else to stroke. Your petting only keeps me awake when I desperately need sleep in order to be bouncy and playful for you later. Being adorable is part of the job, and adorable requires rest.
According to my observations, in an average day, man relieves himself every couple of hours. (Woman relieves herself a touch more frequently.) So why do some humans think their precious pooches only need to go once in the morning and once at night? It can’t possibly be good for the bladder, the nerves or the new carpet.
In Paris, France, dogs are welcomed in elegant restaurants. In America, we can’t even accompany you into a lousy Starbucks. Think it’s fun being tied to a flagpole six inches from a trash can? Considering the fact that our sense of smell is 100,000 times stronger than yours, this is not what I’d call amusement. In this one area, can’t we be more like the French, s’il vous plait?