Dear (and I use that term very loosley) Kevin and Dobby

You've both been here for a little bit now and I think it's time that we schedule a family meeting.  I'm relatively certain that neither of you have ever had the priveledge of attending a meeting, family or otherwise, so I thought I'd give you a little time to mentally prepare for what we'll be doing.

In this pack, we like to sit down regularly to talk about our concerns, ideas,and whatever else might be on our minds.  You can talk to Peep about how these things usually go , she's been to many, many meetings and can tell you what to expect.

Let's go over the ground rules.  Don't worry if you can't remember the rules, I'll remind you when we start the first meeting:

Attendance is mandatory, this is not negotiable.  If I say it's time for the meeting, you need to stop what you're doing and come to wherever I am.  This should actually be the easy part since neither one of you seems to be able to let me go from room to room unattended.  I don't mind that too much although I would like to be able to shower and use the bathroom on my own.  And I do have some concerns about tripping over you, falling down, and breaking a hip. This will probably be one of the topics of the meeting.  I'd like you to spend some time thinking about why you're both stuck to me when we're in the house, but don't even seem to know your names when we're outside, especially off-leash.  I'm looking forward to hearing what you come up with.

Attention to the discussions is also mandatory.  There will be no wrestling, tug-of-warring, or taking toys out of the basket.  Barking at phatoms is not permitted. Actually, barking in general is frowned upon whether we're in a meeting or not. How can such relatively small animals make such a racket? Prepare to discuss.  A minimal amount of butt or foot licking, either your own or your pack member's, will be tolerated.  Emphasis on the minimal.

Be prepared for homework assignments.  They will need to be completed in a timely fashion or there will be consequences.  Please remember that I raised 3 human puppies and countless canine puppies, kittens, hamsters, horses, goats, chickens, cows, and pigs before you arrived;  I've heard every excuse in the Universe for assigned tasks not being completed so don't even try.  Just do the assigned work, it'll go better for all involved.

I believe that's enough to get started with.  Nothing you can't handle if you put your little minds to it.  Notice I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt with that last statement.  I'm going with the assumption that you both have minds, please don't prove me wrong. Again.

I expect you both to initial at the bottom so that I know that you've read through everything.  

Looking forward to getting this first meeting under our belts,

Alpha

Peep:  Mom?

Me:  *12 years of asking you not to and you still insist on calling me mom*  What do you need darling girl?

Peep: I was thinking.....

Me: About?

Peep: I was thinking that maybe I should tell the new guys about our family history.  They haven't been here very long and they seem a little clueless about how things work and what they're supposed to do.  

Me: I have to say I agree with you, they're pretty dense.  I've been cutting them some slack since they're rescue dogs and we have to assume that their life before they came to us wasn't very good.

Peep: What's a "rescue dog"?  Am I one of those?

Me: No darling, I've had you since you were a puppy.  You came straight from your mom to me along with your brothers.  You went from one home to another with nothing in between.  Rescue dogs don't have homes.

Peep: No homes?  How can that be?

Me:  We can talk about that another time.  Tell me what kind of things you want the new guys to know.

Peep:  Well...I think they should know know about the pack. 

Me:  Honey, you and the guys are all there is now.  Well, there's Mabel, but she's been invisible lately.

Peep: I know mom, I think I just want to tell them about all the friends that aren't here anymore. And all the places we've lived and all the adventures we've had.  I miss everybody so much, maybe it'll make me feel better if I talk about all that stuff.

Me:  Ok, if it's something you want to do, I can support that.  But I think you should probably plan on splitting this up into small chewable pieces for those clowns. They're still young and their attention spans aren't that great.

Peep:  I can do that!  When can we start?

Me:  I'm thinking tomorrow night, that'll give us some time to put together a plan and figure out where to start.  Is it ok if I help you with this or is it something you want to do on your own?

Peep: Not by myself!  I need you to be there to make sure they pay attention, this is important stuff.  I also want you to stop Kevin when he starts trying to lick my face.  I really don't like that and he doesn't listen to me when I tell him to stop.

Me: Have you not noticed that he doesn't exactly listen to me either?

Peep: It worries me a lot.

Me:  Don't worry honey, it's all part of giving rescue dogs a home; they always have a lot to learn and most often come with some really bad habits.

Peep: Ok, we'll start tomorrow.  I'll tell them what's going to happen, I'll bet they'll be really excited.

Me: Sweetheart, they're ALWAYS really excited.  About everything.  All the time.  Non stop.

Peep: Will you put their pictures with everybody else's?  That way we can show them who everybody is when I talk about them.

Me: Ok, I'll see what I can do.  Is there anything else you need right now?

Peep: Yes.  Peanut butter.  Please.

Dear Oliver,

I think it's time we have a serious talk about a few things.  You've been here for awhile now, and you're growing up very fast.  I realize that you're still a baby, but you're big enough to start getting a grip on some of your behaviors.

It's wonderful to see you growing up and getting strong and playing.  However, we need to address the issue of your sharp toes.  They're like little razor blades, and they're doing quite a bit of damage to me.  I've included just a few examples for reference.  I have many more places on my body where you have left evidence of your new climbing skills, but I'm both unable and unwilling to take photos of those areas, and we both know where they are.  I am not a tree nor a piece of furniture that you need to be on top of, please stop climbing me.

And on the subject of being on top of members of the household, although I'm sure it's cozy and warm, Mr. Smith does not appreciate it when you decide to nap on top of him.  He has told me that when you do this, he's afraid to move and he starts cramping up but worries about dislodging you.  He's been very kind to you since you arrived, and it's only right that you should treat him with some respect.  He is, after all, old and crabby.  Do NOT tell him I said that.

We should also talk about your little pointy teeth.  They're getting bigger right along with you, and your bite pressure is growing as well.  I have thumbs and can peel you off when you get started, but it would behoove you to remember that Wesson has even bigger teeth and much stronger jaws.  I would strongly advise you to stop attacking his tail or there will be consequences.  He's not nearly as patient as Mr. Smith when it comes to you.

On a brighter note, please feel free to beat up The White Dogs as much as you'd like.  They're so big and have so much hair that they don't even notice what you're doing most of the time.  It would be a good idea however to let go of their tails if they start wagging or you might find yourself flung across the room when you lose your grip.

That covers it for now.  I hope that you were able to read all of this and that Mr. Smith helped you with some of the bigger words.  Please check your mailbox regularly as this is my preferred method of communication.

xxoo

Alpha 

Me: Marcus, could you stop eating your hay for a minute? I'd like to talk to you about your new fly mask.

Marcus: I can talk and eat, I'm very talented you know.  And handsome.  I might be the best looking horse in the barn.  The ladies all love me.  All of the people love me too.  I'm very loveable.  And handsome, did I mention that I'm handsome?

Me: yes darling boy, you have mentioned that once or twice.....every day.  That's kind of what I wanted to talk about in regards to the fly mask.  Do you feel handsome when you wear it?

Marcus: I feel handsome in whatever I'm wearing.  All the colors look good on me.

Me: This isn't about color, it's more about construction.  Have you noticed that the ear pieces are a little on the big side?  Like if you were a rabbit, they might fit with room to spare. ButI think they'd even be too big for a mule.  I don't think the ears are supposed to flop over at the ends the way they do. I don't understand it, the package said it was sized for an Arab and they're not known for having long ears.  And I'm unaware of any mule/Arab/rabbit hybrids out there that this might have been designed to fit.  The nose piece kind of makes it look like you're wearing a gas mask.  Are you sure you're ok with all of this?

Marcus:  I'm better than ok, I'm fabulous. And did I mention that everyone who meets me loves me?

Me: so...it doesn't bother you that the first day you wore the mask your next door neighbor flipped out and wouldn't go anywhere near you?  Did you notice that he ran in circles for almost a half hour and spooked every time he looked at you.

Marcus: oh that Jesse, he's such a kidder!  I think he was just so impressed at how good I look that he was doing an interpretive dance to show his feelings.

Me: uh-huh.  Ok then, I guess I won't worry about it.  But if any of the other horses say anything mean, be sure to let me know and I'll talk to their people about it.

Marcus: did you bring any carrots or apples with you?  Cookies maybe?  Let me check your pockets....ooops, sorry about the slobber..

Dear Not-So-White-Dogs,

I'd like to address an ongoing problem that has reached unbearable proportions.  To wit: your muddy feet.  

I realize that our yard isn't huge, but it's big for the city.  There's plenty of room out there for you to walk, run, lay down, sniff around and do all of the outside dog things you like to do.  There is only one small area that turns to mud when it rains.  This area is only about 3 feet wide and 5 feet long. With all of the other areas to choose from, why in the hell do you all have to stand in that one corner?  And I suspect you're not just standing.  Based on the amount of mud that your feet are covered in, I'm relatively sure that your're out there dancing in it.  Again, I have to ask why? The grass is long and when it rains, it's like an automatic foot wash, why don't you try walking through it before you decide to come in.

And why is it that you have to walk around the rug that's in front of the door.  It's amazing to watch, actually.  No matter how narrow I make the door opening, you all manage to only step on the tiniest corner of the rug.  I put that rug there so that you'd all walk across it when you come in and at least leave a little of the mud at the doorway rather than tracking it through the entire house.  But no.  You insist on coming into the house with the full load of yuk on your feet and then for some reason, known only to you, you feel the need to tour the entire house leaving footy prints everywhere.

I've given up trying to clean.  I've resigned myself to living in a filthy hovel.  I'm lowering my standards.  I've ceased to care. This is what I'm reduced to. The amount of hair you shed is bad enough, but this muddy foot thing is just too much.

The weather is supposed to be dry for at least a little while, so I may break down and wash the floors.  But this is Eugene, we essentially live in a rain forest.  It won't be long before the mud patch comes back and you all rush out to welcome it back.  

I've considered getting all of you boots, but I don't think I'm up to the task of getting them on 12 feet before I let you out.  I'm relatively sure it would not be a fun activity for any of us.  It might be worth the entertainment factor to watch you walk with them on; I've seen plenty of videos of what dogs in boots do, so I might put forth the effort just to see that.  Not a bad idea actually, you could consider it payback for the mess you make.

The next time it rains, please take a moment to think about what I've said here.  Remember, I'm the one who controls the cookie jar: I can make it worth your while to help me keep the house at least a little cleaner.

xxoo

Alpha