Dear Pet,

In the vast scheme of the cosmos, you get the short end of the stick. Your IQ is never going to exceed my shoe size, you have to poop in regulated areas that may or may not include traversing through snow, your meals are always the same, and the highlight of your day is seeing me. I’m not such a prize, Pet. Sometimes I’m cranky and too preoccupied to stop and give you the love and attention you deserve. Sometimes I don’t have the patience to rub your ears for fifteen minutes or throw a ball. Sometimes I’m a flat out crappy owner who doesn’t realize she’s being crappy until you throw yourself on the floor, wriggle, or do something so adorably unignorable that I can’t help but give you snuggings.

But you never call me on my bullshit, do you? You just sorta sit around and wait for the next opportunity to get your love on with me. It’s a very limitless love you’re offering, Pet. Like, seriously, you should consider capping that off or getting a lawyer so you don’t get screwed over in this deal. You accept me when I smell funny, when I’m not wearing pants, and when I’m just plain ugly inside and out. If I snap at you needlessly, you immediately forgive me. I kinda don’t deserve that. I mean, I’m not a bad person, but unconditional devotion? Making me the center of your universe? Seeing me as the highlight of your little furry life? It’s flattering, but too much. You’re too good. It should humble me more than it does.

As such, here’s what I’m proposing (and trust me, I’m well aware this is more to assuage my own guilt than to meet any demands you might make because you’re too awesome to make any) – I will try to make a little more time for you every day. I will try to give you that extra ear scratching or play time, and remember that no matter how awful life can be, you’re there for me. I will feed you, take you to the vet when you’re sick, and even if I don’t have the capability to give you all of my attention all the time, I will love you. I will also, when the end of your limited lifespan comes, make the best decision for you no matter how horrible it makes me feel. It’s the least I can do; you’re the most giving, loyal friend I will ever have.

And I promise I will never forget you.

One thought on “Dear Pet,

  1. I don’t know what to say except that this is an amazing piece of writing. Thank you. Last week, I found out my Doberman has spinal disease. I can only hope that he understands how much better he’s made my life, and all he asks for in return is for me to share beer with him, some kibble and a sofa to nap on. I will make every effort to make whatever time he has left the best possible, and when it’s time, I’ll be there for him at the end. I know to him, whatever time he gets to spend sleeping on the couch and having ear rubs is pure gold. Maybe dogs have had it right all along and it really is the simple things that make life worthwhile.

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