Dear Matt and Carl, 

Every time I pass that horrendously evil cat’s Disneyland, I expect you to give me a handful of that cat’s dry food as my reward.  And I mean a handful not some pathetic 5 little pieces that Carl gives me.  Do you know, Carl, how much crap I have to lick from the carpet that you only vacuum once a year in order to find the 5 pieces?  I don’t go all the way up the stairs for nothing.  It’s not like I need to loose weight to squeeze myself into some ridiculously tiny bikini.

In particular, this is for you, Carl, again.  Don’t get me all worked up and excited running upstairs with you, and pretend that you don’t know you should give me the cat food.  If you do it again, I will poop in your computer bag.  Don’t you think it is very rude for you to do that?  Especially, you constantly tell Matt how rude he is.  In my opinion, he is not rude, but you are.  He always gives me a handful of cat food when I am waiting by that stinky cat palace.

Yours,

Callie, the dog