A letter to the three dogs living in my household.
Okay, you basically killed off the lawn in the backyard this year, but I'm living with that.
Okay, you dragged tiny branches all over the place that I had to pick up until we got the go ahead from the Fire Department yesterday that we could burn them and some leaves off.
Okay, I know the wild rabbits think they can come and live in our yard for free and taunt you all unmercifully.
Yet the holes you dig going after them,
"Dog-Gone It, They aren't Holy!"
I am going to break an ankle from falling into them, or fall crazy and hard, breaking my neck.
Plus I am getting sick and tired of getting the dirt off your faces, out of your nostrils,
eyes and yes even your pointed ears.
If you are going to be diggers you should have floppy ears to keep the dirt from collecting in them when you dig like you're trying to make a hole to the other side of the world.
Okay, I'm burnt out.
I'm leaving the holes for my husband to fill.
He's the one that wanted all the dogs in the first place.
He wore me down for each and every one of them.
He can work on putting a new lawn in next year.
I've put a new lawn in this landscape already four times since we've lived here.
My back can't take putting in another.
So while you take your afternoon naps sleeping under the fan next to me, looking so innocent, I'm kind of hoping you are having nightmares. Nightmares of falling down a rabbit hole only to be looking into the red eyes of
a Monster Rabbit that is going to consume you!
Okay, so that's not very Christian or Holy to be thinking this,
but if everyone saw the number of holes and how deep they really are maybe they'd be thinking the same thing.
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