To the Lost Dogs Home,
I’m writing to complain about your failure to properly inform me about the dog I adopted in March.
Yes, he is a cute Maltese Shih Tzu cross. ... Sure, he’s great with the kids. ... Okay, he never does a mess in the house.
But if only that was it. You see, dear Casper is a middle-class snob.
On walks he seems friendly at first - until we pass a blue-collar worker. He just wants to tear their hearts out.
It got so bad that eventually we had to sell up and move to an inner suburb where we hoped to be around white-collar types.
Unfortunately, we moved to one of those fast-gentrifying suburbs. Old houses are being torn down quicker than you can say ‘Yuppy’ and being replaced with pre-fab townhouses. You can’t turn a corner without spotting ‘builders’ crack’ on a work site!
And worse, the new house is a money-pit. The dishwasher broke, the doors are warped and the wiring’s shot. Between the plumbers, carpenters and sparkies, the dog’s gone nuts. We’re going to get sued!
In the end we put Casper in therapy. The vet shrink said we need to identify the exact profile of his nemesis.
So last night Casper and I jumped online and built a facial composite. After a lot of ‘one bark for yes, two for no’, we finally found our guy. See pics at right. We gave it a couple tries. I don’t think it helped though. He just jumped on the iPad and broke the screen.
So, I ask, why didn’t you warn us that this dog has such a class issue? I know you want to ‘sell’ the dogs’ best features, but this is deliberate deception.
We demand our money back. Or poor Casper’s off to pushing daisies. The kids will not be happy.
Yours, in desperation,
‘In well-starched shirts and ties’
It started so innocently. It's not my fault I got dementia, aged 40.