Dear M,

I know it is not your fault that your head is the size of the average Thanksgiving turkey. I realize that if my mom and step dad didn't crate you regularly that perhaps I may be able to tolorate you. That being said, I still find you difficult to like.

You eat everything and by everything I mean stuffed animals, prescription glasses and candles. You never tire. Is there Red Bull in your water dish? Speaking of your water dish, it is not for swimming in. You can drink without immersing your entire head and spilling the water dish. In fact, with a tongue as large as yours, you could probably drink without bending your head.

Drool grosses me out and I am pretty sure someone told you. Is that why you like to coat my dog in your drool? Is that why you decorated my glass door in it? A word of advise, shaking your spit on people = bad manners. Stop it.

Knocking over my children will not win you any accolades. They don't like it and neither do I. Apparently banning you from my house has little effect since you can't drive and those who can ignore the ban.

Let me bark it out for you. While I find you to be a significant improvement from my mother's previous dog, which I was convinced was plotting my death, I still find you unacceptable. I was hoping my mom would get a purse sized dog. Instead she got you.

You are impossible to control. You don't walk well on a leash. You outweigh most of my family members. I don't want you at or in my house and I likely will not visit you at your house. We are at an impass.

Stay. You at your house and me at mine.

Annoyed in PA,

~kisa~