Basil's starving!

 By Matthew 

 

Dear Daddy, Mummy, Molly, Lily and Matthew,

 

I am writing for one reason only. I, a cuddly Airedale terrier, am writing this letter because you do not let me eat human food. Would you like to be locked out of your own kitchen? Do you lock me out on purpose? Well that’s what’s happening to ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

I personally think you should let me eat the scraps off your plate because your food is delicious. You get to eat cracking carrots, terrific turkey, marvellous mash and finally beautiful beef. You also get lovely chicken and tatties while I get minging stuff. Honestly, my food tastes like brains and rotting guts but you are the royal people of the house and yours is 9 ZILLION times better than mine!!  

 

It would be brilliant if I could sit at the table with my own knife and fork. If you let me I would be more polite than Queen Elizabark. I wouldn’t slurp, or burp, or make doggy noises, or jump on the table like a MAD CHICKEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

So please, please, please, please let me share your terrific breakfast, lunch, and dinner!!!

 

Yours sincerely,

 

Basil

Poppy

Poppy

P lacidly growing from the churned up mud, in Flanders Field you grew a sea

O f beautiful red admirals each pattern unique lulling Dorothy gently to sleep… your scarlet

P etals as thin as paper and

P erfume as sweet as Jasmine, Poppy,

Y ou are exquisite

Persuasive Letter To Mum

 

Dear Mummy,

Do you remember the song that you sing to me in the mornings? Mummy’s best doggy? Cuddles on the couch, licks in the kitchen, and walks in the forest. Aren’t we the best of pals? Although I know you love me, you have currently banned me from upstairs. Why? This has to change. Four cosy beds, and furry duvets - upstairs has it all, but you just take it for granted. Why can’t I enjoy these these comforts too?

Do you ever think about me when your upstairs? Your adorable Airedale? Or how I hate that gate? Every time you leave me downstairs, I hear the gentle turning of pages as you snuggle in bed reading a book. Every time I stare through the gate, up the spiralling staircase a pang of sadness wells up inside me. I wish I could be up there, enjoying myself, comforting you at sad parts of the book and laughing with you at happy parts. If I were allowed upstairs, we could have had even more adventures with a new venue and I wouldn’t be as lonely at night.

Often you call me big bad Baz, but have I ever done anything to deserve that nickname? Well, apart from occasionally stealing bacon from the grill or having a nibble at Granny’s sandwich, or chasing a horse up the hill… But why am I never called terrifically tidy terrier? See those those wee humans that run about all over the house? If I was allowed, I could tidy their rooms for them! No more hoovering needed! Why are you so determined to keep me from enjoying the fun of upstairs with you? If you were to relent on this, then your bedrooms would never be cleaner! I could make those skirting boards shine! Licky Mc’Lickerson to the rescue!

If the wee humans woke up in the night, I could act like a nanny, gently soothing them back to sleep by licking their faces and ears. This would mean you wouldn’t have to get up during the night, which I’m sure would be a delight! Extra hours of sleep!

All I ask is that I be allowed to enjoy the delights of upstairs. Why is it so hard to let your favourite doggy upstairs to snuggle in bed with everyone? Please, this is all I ask, just to be allowed to visit your paradise. I know you are bit allergic to me, so if if it would help, I wouldn’t even have to stay in your room when you start sneezing!

Please think about it,

Lots of licks,

Basil Xxx