Friday, February 11, 2011

Dear Murphy,

Remember last week when I found you in the living room sitting in the middle of the stuffing you'd ripped out the couch cushion with my favorite bra dangling out of your mouth? And remember when you jumped on my friend when she walked through the front door . . . the same you way jump on EVERYONE when they walk through the front door? And remember how you ate the neighbor girls little blue sock when I was babysitting her on Wednesday? And remember how you spent the ENTIRE day barking at joggers and walkers and dogs yesterday? And you know how you've torn up the backyard from your manic running routine when I let you out? And how about the thousands of piles of poo you've left over the last couple of months as a happy little Springtime surprise? And remember last night when we were sitting at the dinner table and someone said "what stinks?" and everyone started freaking out and it turns out the stink was you? And remember how I bathed you? And then how you ran straight downstairs and pulled apart another couch cushion while you were still smelling of fresh lavender? Well I'm done. And I told everyone so. And then the kids cried themselves to sleep. So you're staying for at least another day but I just wanted you to know that you're skating on some mighty thin ice buddy.


My aunt has told my mom approximately 20 times
who has relayed it to me approximately 20 times
that if she ever gets a dog she wants my brother to train it.
And I'm thinking, hey,
what's wrong with my mad training skills?!

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

hahahahahaha...love it!
bren

Becky W. said...

Come on Murphy! Shape up. You can do it!

Murphy seems so nice on your blog. He doesn't ever climb on me or poo on my floor or eat any of my clothes as I'm reading about him and seeing such cute pictures of him. Awwww. Maybe he could somehow turn into a cyber pet, or an online friend or something and you could enjoy him as I do. All that white curly fur. And his great name.

Anonymous said...

I love Murphy because he looks like Otis. He runs like Otis. He barks like Otis. And he's a spastic, just like Otis. I miss Otis, but today I'm doing the "spring cleaning" of the backyard thanks to Roxy. She always behaves well, but the backyard is SCAREY!
Karen