Precious

Dear Neighbor,

As per our telephone conversation last weekend when you requested I keep my incredibly large nose out of your toockus under the threat of physical violence, I have decided to try another course of communication and am writing you a friendly letter on blue stationary: my wife tells me blue has a calming effect on people, and boy! Do I ever feel relaxed, pen in hand, staring out at this beautiful afternoon on our equally beautiful street!

In respect to your perfectly reasonable request - hey! don't I know I have a bigger nose than the average man, and haven't I heard several humorous remarks about its girth and length from many friends - I must, with the utmost respect, put my sizable olfactory glands back into your notice.

What I'm writing for, is to re-open our lines of communication in regards to Precious. My wife and I just adore her, we really do. Her spontaneous visits are always such a pleasure to us: a childless couple with pet dander allergies. And don't we just love it when she, in a friendly way, I'd like to think, comes charging out from the bushes and tugs at the loose fabric of our pant legs, sometimes scraping skin, and who's kidding, bone! Which I think is her way of saying "hello and lets play!"

We don't even mind picking up after her every now and then, knowing that you keep late hours entertaining colourful guests and must be frequently tired. Like last week, when Precious overturned our garbage cans and chewed through the bungee cords we fastened round the lids to keep them shut. We didn't even mind that she spread a little trash over our yard, ate some old cheese still in its plastic wrap and defecated on our azaleas - funny thing, when a dog eats cling wrap and then poops, it does not exit them in quite the way one would imagine.

Anyway, that aside, I wanted to know if you'd given any thought to my suggestion of maybe considering trying a potential leash-like device to keep Precious within the boundaries of your back-yard. As fore mentioned, I just adore her, but her surprise visits can be slightly troublesome. I recall an incident last spring when she gnawed through my cherry blossom sapling - quite a feat for a medium sized dog, considering the tree was already six feet tall and a good three inches thick. I believe she wanted to play fetch and mistook my young tree for a stick, which after felling, proceeded to drag over my lawn, tearing up clods of fresh sod while I took chase, my eyes watery from pollen and certainly not impotent rage.
But hey! On the bright side, I'd been meaning to aerate anyhow, so no harm done.

What I really want you to take from this letter is an open invitation to talk anytime. Come by my side of the bushes, we'll crack a few American beers and get down to hugging this one out. I know if you can open up your heart we'll reach a solution that works for everyone.

Ps: It would be wonderful if you could return my nephew. He's rather small and round for his age, which I believe is why he was mistaken for a ball. Please contact me sooner rather than later, my sister has been giving me heck about it.

Always your respectful neighbor,

Tom