love letter to my dog

dear estelle getty,

Here are 10 things I hate about you. <— because I know how much you love 90s teen movies and modern Shakespeare.

1. You get hair everywhere, and I have sympathy for this.  I really do.  I’m a girl.  I used to have hair long hair.  I get it.  But you don’t clean up your hair from the bathroom floor… Okay, I never did either, but still.

2. You make me get up early every morning.  Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, all of the sudden having an ear itch that must be scratched as soon as the sun appears in the sky, or even a little before.  But you’re stealthy, I’ll give you that.  While other dogs hop on their owners’ beds and lick faces, you stay on your doggie bed, and make your collar jingle like it’s the most accidental sound in the world.  Well played.

3. Last winter you chewed up my favorite pair of heels.  No, I’m not over it.  And the worst part was that you didn’t even chew them completely, making me keep a pair of chewed heels for two months wondering if they were salvageable.  And then you found them again and made sure they weren’t.  Thanks for that.

4. You do that thing at the dog park when you get excited, where you roll around in the dirt.  Listen, I barely want to give myself a shower most days.

5. Sometimes I walk to the store with you and tie you up outside while I run in, and it literally makes me run through the store because I’m so worried someone’s going to steal you.

6. When people avoid you, in a way that’s, “I hate dogs,” it makes me not trust them… actually, thanks.

7. I know I mentioned the shoes, but let’s be honest, last week’s classy job to the crotch of my newest jeans was really your pièce de résistance.

8. Do you know how expensive your dog food is?  So it’s not as expensive as human food, but couldn’t you just eat the neighbor’s cat or something? I want to buy new shoes and jeans.

9. You name is ridiculous.  I realize this could be considered my fault, but you’re the one that looks like an “Estelle Getty.

10. You really stink at posing for pictures, no matter how many vogue poses I show you.

Now, I know you probably expected a Julia Stiles turn here at the end.  I would suddenly tell you that I love that you get me outside everyday, give me kisses each day, and are so excited to see me when I get home.  Maybe I’d go on to say that this whole living by myself would be a great disaster without you, that you are more precious to me now than when I first carried you home inside my sweatshirt, that we can listen to Michael Bolton and have a connection deeper than woman and dog.  But I won’t, partly because that last one was weird and also because, Estelle Getty, you’re a dog, and it’s really freaking me out that you’re reading.  So stop.

cheers (barks),

hilly

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