Dear furless bipedal being who feeds us,
Despite being completely illiterate, our tails wagged with joy because you wrote to us, not the least of which was we got to imagine how much barking we would get to do if you had sent us your letter by UPS or FedEx rather than here.
See, we are used to being communicated with in short, often monosyllabic words, followed by the proffering of treats. When someone tries to talk to us on a higher level than that, well, it's almost as exciting as actually catching a squirrel for once.
But the joy lessened when we realized that not only did your letter not come with aforementioned treats, but you called us "kinda dumb" in your letter.
Now that's just plain uncalled for. Yes, one of us tries to hump the stuffing out of his blankie if given half a chance, and the other tries to eat her own poops if given half a chance, but what about you? You not only feel the bizarre compulsion to pick up our poops, but to then throw them away. Talk about a waste of a good treat. There are dogs without poop to eat out there. Think of them next time.
But really, though, our main grievance is with which how hardened your species' hearts have become. We, simple creatures that we are, love anybody who feeds us and gives us tummy rubs. You lot, on the other hand, will only love somebody if apparently they don't do anything to upset you ever and have the exact same religious and political beliefs as you. If they feed you, that should be enough. But apparently, it isn't, because just look at how much you dread being fed at Thanksgiving by relatives who don't agree with you.
Frankly, we think that makes you dumber than us. Think of how many more tug-of-war partners you could have and how many more wrestling buddies you could call on if you stopped being so arbitrary over whose butt you sniffed and who sniffs your butts. Instead, you turn away those potential wrestlers and tug-of-warriors because they bark differently than you.
Cutting others out of your life like that isn't very smart. In case you're keeping score, eating your own poops: smart. Farewelling people out of your life because they committed some minor heresy, according to you, a squirrel-abstaining idiot: stupid.
Now, none of that keeps us from loving you. After all, you do feed us and cuddle us and lavish us with lots--though still never enough--attention. But it's not a love of equals. We tolerate your stupidity because of the deep emotional bond we have, not because we think even for a second that you are capable of appreciating the consumption of delicacies like flower petals and lawn clippings (you thought we were going to make another poop joke, didn't you?).
Rest assured that we do indeed love you as much as you love us, and that we want the best for you just as you want the best for us. But just like you are convinced that we don't always know what is best for us, we are pretty certain that your species doesn't always know what is best for themselves either.
We wish you did, though. We really do. Because you being joyful in turn makes us joyful. And that's all we really want in the end--that, and more treats, which you remain inexcusably stingy with. And we think you want that too (joy, not treats...although you seem to have your own treat, called 'scotch').
That's what matters, furless bipedal being who feeds us. Joy.
Now if you'll excuse us, we have some sunning to do over on your couch. It is close to swimsuit season after all, and we still don't trust you to not dress us in something ridiculous and parade us around in front of your fellow idiots.
Love,
Sir Henry and Dame Frida
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