My dog, Ruby, received a letter in the mail.
My niece Zooey picked Ruby to be her pen pal, and asked what kind of treats Ruby wanted when she saw her next, and if she would like to play fetch. Zooey is in second grade and wrote a very nice letter.
Though I had lots of deep thoughts and a few blog posts already in the works, things have frankly been heavy of late (last post I wrote about the Bay Area Orange Apocalypse), and I figured we could use a little break, some lightness if you will. Ruby needed a hand anyway to write back to Zooey, and it is her birthday this week (she’s turning nine), so I offered her a turn as my first guest blogger.
Here’s her letter, straight from the mouth of a dog:
I can be your Pen Pal but I can’t hold a pen. But I am a Penn.
Your Aunt Lisa said she would help me out because she knows how to hold a pen and also type on keys. She has hands and thumbs. I have paws. I can smell better, though, and hear more things.
If I wrote a real letter, a dog letter, it would go like this:
Grass, dirt, squirrels, cats, wind, flowers, other dog pee, other dog poo, bark at that dog, wag at this dog, hope for ball, ask for ball, wait for ball, sit until ball, stare until ball.
Wait for food, hope for food, it’s time for food, sit for food, stare for food until someone says, Oh, Ruby wants her dinner!
It’s a lot of work to communicate simple things. Much more work than a pen would be if I had thumbs and hands and understood written words and what paper was for.
But I like treats (any kind), and I like how you smell and your funny faces and being petted and loved. And throw me a ball and take me for a walk and let’s play!
Your Paw Pal,
P.S. Here’s a million dollars.
P.P.S. from Lisa: Ruby was so excited to have a pen pal she really sent Zooey a (party favor) million dollar bill from my bulletin board. At least she didn’t eat it.
Thanks to the neighborhood pandemic artist who created “Stay Happy” for all to enjoy.