I believe you have some issues about living next-door. I understand most of these issues involve my dog. Since I sympathise with the plight of non-dog lovers, I’ve decided to write to you some gentle pointers about co-existing with these amazing animals. Here are some that you may find useful:
- If there’s poop in your front entrance, please remember that grown dogs seldom poop in the doorway. They prefer the dirt and the grass. It might have been the stray cat that lives in our building, or the stray kids.
- Yes. He barks. It’s an early warning system against burglars, strangers and serial killers. Much as I would enjoy it, I don’t want my neighbours serially killed.
- Thank you for point out the obvious, yes he is incredibly strong. Did you think I dislocated my shoulder eating cereal today?
- He likes to chase the pigeons. I know you find it hilarious, pointing and laughing as you do, but he means to kill them, not play.
- Very true, he does shed a lot of hair. We tried to make him friendly with the vacuum-cleaner, but he’s already made an enemy out of the blow-dryer.
- I am usually covered in dog-hair, with specks of drool on my shirt and a fistful of half-eaten dog biscuits in my pocket. I hope I don’t look to dowdy by your standards.
- One of the ways to introduce yourself to a big dog is to ask the owner if he’s friendly. If they say yes, please approach. If they say no, back away. Or you could try running towards the dog yelling “German Shepherd! Weeeeeeee!” but I can’t vouch for what will happen next.
- Rest assured, your loud, rude, annoying kid is very safe with my dog. He’s not very safe with me, however.
- No he’s not at all like a Labradoodle. A Labradoodle will want your affection. An Alsatian will want your marrow.
- Yes. I get it. He’s a dog. He’s not a cute baby you can fawn over. He’s not a hot girl you can gawk at. He’s my best friend and I’d appreciate if you were kind to this species of bomb-sniffers, caregivers, sentinels and perpetual face-lickers.
I raise my paw in farewell