Dr. Wolfe vignette

Dr. Wolfe vignette
Professionals often suggest writing letters to those who frustrate us. I thought this was excellent idea. Of course I wrote it Lissner style, because being silly stopped me from playing dead...literally.

Dear Dr. Wolfe,


I have a bone to pick with you. My health has gone to the dogs. Since they found that spot on my mammogram, I’m so dog-tired I can’t chase my tail. I pant and drool just walking up the stairs. I’m sick of putting my head in the toilet and only eating scraps from the table. Thanks to you, I’ve had to install a bedside fire hydrant. At night, this poor pooch howls at the moon, begging to lap up life.

It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, but after learning your new tricks, I’m not "fur"ocious enough to be leader of the pack. Instead, I put my tail between my legs and run whimpering to my bed. I just lay in my kennel licking my wounds. During the dog days of summer, I scratch at the door, longing to go for a walk in the park, chase a squirrel, or retrieve a bit of fun.

I’m bushed from this crazy dog-and-pony show. You mangy medical mutts are per"pet"ually yanking my leash and leading me from one appointment to the next. It gives me paws (pause) to think you were given a license to do this. I’m not letting sleeping dogs lie. I’m reporting you to the animal rights authorities. You’re gonna be collared and sent to The Big Doghouse.

I’ve tried to be obedient, but you’re barking up the wrong tree if you think I’m doing another K-9 blood test. If that bloodhound in the yellow lab coat comes near me, I’ll bite him. I’m through with short leashes and staying put. I’m going out in the yard, rolling in the dirt, and playing fetch with my pups.


"Ruff"ly yours,
Yapp E. Pooch