A Letter To Lola

Dear Lola,

You've been my new roommate/project/supposed companion for almost five months now.  I knew that at first the rules would be difficult to follow, but you seemed to be very smart and I thought you would learn.  I'm not sure if you are at fault or I have supremely crappy puppy judgement.  All I know is that when we met, you were so calm and sweet.  You didn't run like your tail was on fire or chew up flip flops like they were Doritos.  You had bathroom accidents, but you were just a baby.  I know grown men that have bathroom accidents.

Was there some traumatic experience that I need to be made aware of?  Does a cat torture you when I am not looking and cause you to run like a horseman of the apocalypse through the house AT ALL TIMES?  Do you have some sort of rubber/plaster/book vitamin deficiency that causes you to eat my shoes/walls/reading material?  Can you not see people's faces and you only jump up to see who you are dealing with?  If that is the case, I am more than willing to get you doggy glasses.  And vitamins and cat repellent.  If none of those apply, can you please see fit to modify your abhorrent behavior?  I have cruised Amazon and found some "re-enforcement" that I am 100% sure you are not going to like, so I am asking you to reform your ways before they arrive.  Otherwise, well, you will receive presents you will not like.  None of them are chicken flavored, either.  And if they don't work, I do believe a bus ticket to San Jose will be in your future.

Love,

Joemama