It's Not Me, It's You

An excerpt from "Angry Farewell Notes From Runaway Dogs" by Dave Donovan via McSweeney's:

To: Leonard
From: Ringo, 4-year-old Saint Bernard

Well, this is not easy. I'm supposed to be loyal and supportive, and God knows I've given it my best shot. But let's be honest: my opportunities here are limited. I just don't know how in the world I can deliver food and first-aid supplies to anyone in this goddamned condominium. Am I supposed to be a rescue dog or not? I thought you could at least attach martini shakers to my collar and turn me loose near the pool. But it turns out there really are no emergencies here. In fact, the only crisis I can see is the frozen tundra of your dating life. So, best of luck, Admiral Byrd – you're going to need it.

To: Brian
From: Wicket, 10-month-old border collie

OK OK OK, there're just a few things I have to say before we get all crazy and I start editing myself here before I even finish this sentence, because I've anticipated your reaction before you even know what I'm able to say, which is that I think I could do a lot more – that is to say, a lot better – elsewhere, instead of this place, where there just is not enough stimulation for a dog of my caliber, since you're a work at home Internet marketer who sunburns easily and is allergic to fun, so I guess I just gotta move on with no hard feelings, OK OK OK?

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