Dear Bonnie,
You are a dog. It is the absolute truth. You are not just any dog, however, you are my dog. My family’s dog. We all adore you. My parents, your adoptive parents, dote on you. You spend every night curled up on the couch between the two of them, alternating who you cuddle up to a little closer, usually depending on which one of the two of them has food. You are walked daily, fed regularly, you go to daycare, you have all the toys in the world and you give us so, so much love. We love you, Bonnie. We love you so, so much. And you love us! You show it in so many ways! The way you greet us at the door, crying tears of joy every time like we had just returned from war even though we had only been at the grocery store for 30 minutes or even just ran out real quick to get the mail. You give us so many puppy kisses, you curl up with us on the couch, you follow us around, you’re a very loving, sweet little lady and I am so lucky to have you. There’s just one thing I have to ask of you, Bonnie. One little thing. A plea, at this point a desperate one.
Stop stealing my shoes.
Stop it. Stop it. Stop. Bonnie. Bonnie. Bonnie! Stop stealing my shoes. Stop stealing my brother’s shoes. Stop stealing my sister’s shoes. Stop stealing my dad’s shoes. Stop stealing my mom’s shoes. Stop. Stealing. Our. Shoes.
I get it, Bonnie. I do. You’re a retriever, you retrieve things, it’s what you do. What you don’t do, apparently, is give the shoe to us, you just carry it around when we come home then hide it somewhere in the house when the excitement of someone coming home has died down.
Bonnie. Did you know that I have to wake up at least 15 minutes earlier than I normally would whenever I have something to do at home because I know I’ll need that extra time to search for my shoes that you almost certainly hid somewhere? Did you know that there are pairs of shoes that I have given up on finding because you hid them in separate places around the house? Where did they go, Bonnie? What did you do with them? Why did you do it? Can you show me where they are? Can you help me reunite my brown flats? I have the left one bonnie, where is the right? Tell me where the right one is. Show me. Show me Bonnie. Please. You’re a good girl. Be a good girl and show me where the shoes are hidden.
Bonnie, I love you but you are tearing these shoe families apart. Please consider an alternative, perhaps just greeting us with a doggie smile and kisses and leave our footwear alone. Please.
Xoxo,
One of your humans
P.S. Also please stop glaring at me whenever I cough it’s just a thing that happens sometimes Bonnie you act like I’m putting a curse on you or something, Christ.
