E-mail from Bruiser

Dear Mom:

I don’t want to worry you but my new house has NO indoor facilities;  I have to go outside for everything. I’m not even sure the Master and Mistress read newspapers; they just sit in front of their computers all day.

But you’d be proud of me. I’m being good even though it’s very cold out. Only two mistakes in two days.

Aunt Sheba isn’t very much fun. She’s a Lab like you and something else but she WON’T play. I thought she was gonna bite my head off when I tried to start a little game of grr-grr-grr like you and I do.

I did learn to go up steps!  That was cool but it was very scary! Also I thought the Master was going to drop me.  I can run up all the way from the landing now (Good Boy! Good Boy!) but I’ll never be able to learn to go down; that’s too hard.

The Master says we’re going to hike up a mountain. I don’t know what that is but I think it has lots of steps because he said I had to practice. Probably he’ll carry me down like he does on the steps; I’ll just whine until he does.

The Mistress is very nice.  She has this book about how to discipline your dog that her sister gave her. One corner has already been chewed off; I think I’ll do the other one when I get through with some furniture I’m working on.

Oh, and I went for a W-A-L-K.  Aunt Sheba came too.  We had to both wear necklaces like you have around our necks; auntie’s has jingly things on it like yours but mine doesn’t. Then they attached leather ropes to them so we could pull the Master and Mistress around and tell them where to go. They weren’t very obedient, though.

I have my OWN CAVE!  It’s very cool.  Aunt Sheba is too big to get in but she did stick her teeth in and take one of my toys. The Mistress told her she was a bad girl.  My cave goes under where the Master and Mistress sleep at night so it’s really safe – I know you’d like that. And all I have to do is whine and they take me right outside. It would be a lot easier if they just had some newspaper but probably up here in the country they don’t know about modern conveniences.

Well, that’s about it.  I hope you and my sissies are OK; give them a nip for me. Maybe you can find them new homes WITH newspaper. I miss you all very much.

Whoof,

Bruiser