From the desk of Woofy Delano Roosevelt
July 4, 2024
Sir, A hearty Happy Independence Day to you! I wish you well. Nonetheless, I must again revisit the unfortunate issue that has occupied us for a number of years, i.e. the matter of my nutritional desires. This disagreement is so familiar to us that I shall jump in with both feet without delay.
Bone?!? You apparently expect me to ‘gnaw’ on a bone? I sit upright, my good man. I wear a fez. I read Proust and Pynchon and giggle at the whimsies of Fyodor Dostoyevsky. While you slave away for “the man” at your ludicrously meaningless donkeywork, my days pass in contemplation, yoga, bridge with the poodles down the street, and a dalliance with a ravishing Great Dane. Oh, and during your absences I sleep in your bed, oh yes, and quite soundly. So, in summation, you “gnaw” on the bone, sir, if you please. It suits you. Employ those overrated opposable thumbs.
As for my purpose in writing, it is once again regarding the matter of my daily meals. As you know, we have fought long and repeatedly over this matter. I have often maintained – without rancor, mind you – your choice of nutrition for me borders on barbarous. Kibble I shall not nibble! My entreaties for the addition of a hint of baked apple in my so-called meals have long been unheeded. Nota bene, I seek a mere hint of baked apple; as always, my requests are as minimal as they are respectful. Nonetheless, I again implore: Immediately respond with action to fulfill my reasonable nutritional needs, or I shall be forced, quite against my disposition, to bring suit in a court of equity jurisdiction for full performance, compensatory, and punitive damages that, in practical terms, would be far more expensive than hints of baked apple.
We may, however, settle this amicably, still. Note that the fine canine nutritional company, Kibbles ‘N Bits, has long and successfully offered what they call Bistro Meals. These rich blends are offered in both Oven Roasted Beef Flavor and Grilled Chicken Flavor, each with a sophisticated mix of vegetables. And, for the educated palate, as my own, each blend features what I most desire, a hint of baked apple. Picture my elation when you bring home my first Bistro Meal. Better, this: Picture the return of your slippers, your various socks, your “little black book,” your iPhone, your hairpieces, and your strangely alluring rubberized blow-up girlfriend. Each has been carefully preserved in perfect condition.
I regret this matter has reached this juncture, but it pleases me to offer a mutually beneficial compromise. See Bistro Meals. As you often suggest to me when we happily play at boules, “Fetch. Good boy, good boy.”
With hopes for a congenial settlement of this endlessly pending matter, I remain, as always, your loving, loyal, and devoted Woofy.
Sincerely,
Woofy Delano Roosevelt
cc: Law Firm of Williams & Connoly
A.S.P.C.A.
P.E.T.A.
My veterinarian
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