Confessions of a teenage canine

Dear Master,

There is something important I need to tell you. That wet spot on your rug was not lemonade. I know there was a half empty pitcher of lemony goodness beside the small piece of carpet, but the fact is...I placed it there on purpose. When you left for the day, I snuck into the living room and lifted my leg about 90 degrees and...Well, I needed to cover up my crime so I opened the fridge, grabbed the pitcher, and staged my dirty deed.

I have some other confessions to make, and I might as well tell you them in this letter. Remember when there was a hole in your underwear and you thought it must have happened when you sat down too fast at your business meeting? It was me. All me and my thirsty teeth. I couldn't resist the opportunity to smell your undies as they were strewn about on your bedroom floor. Once I smelled them, it was all over--my teeth pierced the white fabric. Please forgive me.

Yesterday, I saw you examining a large hole in the backyard. When I heard you tell my mistress that you thought the neighborhood kid had been digging in the dirt with his shovel, I knew I was safe. But I felt guilty, like I always do (hence the letter I'm writing right now).

I have yet another confession. There was a fresh, hot pizza straight out of the oven sitting on the counter last weekend. It smelled so incredibly delicious. I paced back and forth in the kitchen, waiting for my mistress to leave. It was torture having to smell such a wonderful scent and not be able to sink my teeth into it. To my delight, the doorbell rang. My mistress hurried to answer the door. I waited a minute to hear who was at the door. Yes! It was Chatty Cathy. I knew they would be talking for hours. After double checking my ears that it was indeed Chatty Cathy, I quietly placed my paws on the counter and took a bite of the pizza. Ahhhhh! This tastes like something the gods would eat. I took a few more bites, and within minutes I had devoured the whole cheesy pie. I knew I was in trouble, so I ran through the doggy door and placed myself in my kennel and waited. But guess what happened? There was another pizza in the oven that looked like the same one I ate and my mistress' children took it out and placed it on the cooling rack while she was chatting it up with Cathy. After Cathy left, no one even noticed the missing pizza. In fact, there were five other pizzas besides the one I ate. They were fine without it. But I still feel a little bad.

So there you have it. I'm sorry, master. But I love you and will always greet you with a wagging tail and wet kisses when you come home from a hard day's work.

Sincerely,

Your Pup