I don't know how to say it. English is not my first language. I only know a few words, sit, walk, treat, WHY ARE YOU STILL BARKING.
Here it is, though.
I miss laying in your lap.
Maybe it's my pack mentality. Maybe I like to cuddle.
Maybe I just like looking back at Mommy, like, "Who's got your man now?"
She doesn't appreciate you in shorts the way I do. Your calves look great. You would be an excellent Alpha if we had to live in the woods and run down deer. As a terrier, you just need to let me off leash and I will finally catch us some squirrels for dinner. I can bring home the tree rat.
I'll need your thumbs to start the fire to cook it though.
Let's be honest, she doesn't love you like I do. I could spend all day with you laying on the couch.
She's always talking about "work" while she smashes her fingers into the weird lightbox. Sometimes she starts talking to "people" in the lightbox. She says it's a Zoom meeting.
I say she's crazy, because there's nobody there. I don't even sniff for them anymore. You might want to get her some help. I always say, if you can't smell its butt, then it's probably a figment of your imagination.
She also does not appreciate how I protect the house. When I bark, the delivery people leave us gifts, in awe of my ability to protect the pack. I have received several bags of dog food due to my constant vigilance. Someone named "Etsy" keeps providing her things I'm not entirely sure she needs. You would think she would be grateful, but mostly she tells me to stop it and that I'm driving her nuts. I ignore her and continue my patrol. If anyone comes through these doors, they will face all 41 pounds of fury. I think I bark like a 61 pound dog at least.
She says she needs you. She's lying. She can take herself for a walk. If she is so lonely at night, then why doesn't she let me sleep in the bed with her? She says it's because I'm a bed hog and I move during the night, and she already wakes up at the tiniest noises in case it's the baby crying, but methinks I smell a liar.
I have loved you since I was a wee pup, still peeing on the floor. And the stairs. And one time the bed. It was Christmas. I was filled with the holiday spirit. And well hydrated.
There is no one more faithful. More loyal. More fluffy.
I'm just saying, maybe ditch the bitch. Pick someone who has always loved you wholeheartedly and unreservedly. Someone who has zero sense of time, someone who greets you at the door with the enthusiasm of a year's parting when you just brought out the trash.
Pick me. Harley, your best dog.