Dearest Ellwood and Charlie,
I can't tell you how happy I am that you are part of my life. Your antics as you wrestle over that stretchy dog make me smile. I love to watch you plot to steal each other's toys. And your presence late at night in my bed keeps me from feeling any of the loneliness one might feel sleeping alone in a queen size bed.
However, you need to understand that there are limits to the love I have for you. While I don't mind filling your food bowls despite the agony of five inch cysts on my ovaries, and I don't mind waking early to let you to do "your business" while I wait for you to come back in, I have to draw the line somewhere.
You are simply no longer allowed to splatter your bodily fluids anywhere inside of our home. I did not appreciate waking from my nap this morning to discover, Ellwood, that you had vomited on my bed, the bed that I changed last night. I was amazed that you were able to paw my comforter out of the way after vomiting on it, and spew the contents of your stomach on both the top sheet and bottom sheet. And then, when I thought I had discovered all that you had managed to do, I saw that I was wrong, that you somehow managed to vomit down the side of my bed, onto my floor and the shoe that was sitting there minding it's own business. May I ask...has simply chewing on my belongings lost it's appeal? Is that why you are choosing to defile them with your vomit?
And then, Charlie, my sweet little Charlie. After you watched me labor over the vomit clean up, hunched over in pain, you looked at me so sweetly. You came and sat beside me as I curled into a self-pitying ball on my naked bed. You licked my face as if to say, "I love you, and it will be okay." You then wandered off, and I began to relax, watching a comforting episode of Season 3 of Charmed. Then, as I truly began to relax I noticed that smell. That distinctive foul smell of dog shit. I began to explore, letting my nose lead me to you...in my daughter's bedroom where you had just crapped on the floor. Really, Charlie? I thought we had something special, that we understood each other. Why couldn't you just come to me and let me know you needed out? I would have opened the door for you, and stood there and waited for you to come back in. I wouldn't have left you out in the 95 degree heat. But, no. You simply couldn't be bothered with waiting for me.
So, I'm putting the two of you on notice. I don't crap in your crate, don't vomit on your toys, and I demand that you show me the same respect. Yes, I love you, and will do nearly anything for you. But even my love for you has limits, and the next one of you that makes me clean up foul smelling bodily secretions is going to get his ass kicked!
Your Loving Human