I have small dreams:  a nice long walk every day, getting rubbed on the belly, maybe a squirrel to chase and a bone to chew.  I come close and cuddle in hopes of affection. But, instead.

I get a finger in the eye at least once a day.  Small pudgy hands pulling at my fur, my ears, my tongue.  Kid, keep your fingers out of my nose. And do I really have to be smacked over the head while you squeal in delight?  Isn’t it enough you get all the best food, while they have to put my food and water on the counter so you don’t play with it?  And that tail?  Yeah, it’s attached.  Thanks for checking. Again.

Yes your fingers taste good – sweet potato, chicken, or spaghetti.  And yes I don’t want any stranger near you so I’ll bark bloody murder when they approach. Oh and thanks for throwing your food over the edge, I appreciate it. But I’d just like to ask you not to launch yourself full force on top of my body when you want to hug me.  I love you too.  But I’m a lover, not a fighter.  Don’t squish me.