Following is a Mother’s Day letter from our Boston terrier, Lilly, to her human mommy. I did my best to translate.
Dear Mommy,
There are some things I’ve been wanting to tell you for a really long time, but was not sure how. Maybe part of me was afraid that you’d want to give me back like that other family in the Bad House did. Anyway, daddy helped me put my words together because I can’t talk human. I hope you understand.
Sometimes, I get really nervous. You know what happens, but I need to tell you anyway. When you or daddy talk on the phone with people who are mean or not helpful, the music in your voices goes sour and it makes me shake all over. It feels like my bones are gonna fly outta my body. The same thing happens if you and daddy have cross words together. I know the last part doesn’t happen much, but I still can’t stop my trembles until the sour voices go away. My wish is for you two to have normal or happy voices, even when other people don’t.
When you or daddy say, “Dida, do you want to go for a walkie?,” I yip and leap so high I think I could fly. I really want to go, but please remember to slip my harness over my head from under my chin. If you come at me with the loop over my head, it looks like you’re trying to catch me, so I back away and hide behind the couch.
Other doggies can make me shake, too. I don’t know if they’re going to hurt me or take you away from me. I can’t tell if they want to be friends or even if I want to be friends with them. If they get too close, I snarl and spin and don’t know how to stop. I nipped a couple of dogs which I know made you and daddy sad and the other doggies scared of me. No one in the Bad House taught me how to say hello or make friends. Other doggies lived there. I don’t remember much about them, only that they got played with and I didn’t. I think my old daddy loved them more.
You and daddy have been working very hard to teach me how to get along. I really like my trainers and the doctor who sent me the tasty medicine for my tummy and brain. My nerves don’t get as tingly when other doggies get too close. One day, I’m going to be all la-de-da when another doggie walks close to me. I’ll be so relaxed, my eyes will go half-shut like they do when I’m sunbathing.
I’m not sure daddy got all my words right, but I know he did his best. I’ll have him tell you that you should never wonder if you are a good enough mommy. I’ll just bury my butt into your hip when we go to sleep. And I’ll try not to steal your side of the bed.
Happi Muvers Day!
Love,
Lilly (Dida)