Dear Darla,

My mom is the best mom in the whole, wide world.  She gives me pet names like Stinky and Dummy. She asks me all the time if today is the day that I want to die.  And if I really push her buttons, she waves her fist at me and says she’s going to knock me into next week. But I know, deep down, she loves me.

There was this one time, my brother and I got into a fight and he cheated because he’s bigger than me, and pushed me down and then broke my foot.  I cried and cried and cried and Mom made me wear an ugly green cast for a really long time.

And then, that other time, when I went swimming, in that really cool slimy pond, and caught some weird skin fungus and my hair felt out in big chunks and she still made me go to school looking like a diseased rat.

And then, that one time, that the junk yard dog bit me in the face.  (Monkey balls, that hurt!)  But Mom just pinched my lip between her fingers until the bleeding stopped and told me to suck it up because I’d be just fine.  

And then, there was that other time, when I saw the really pretty, fluffy, little black and white dog.  He sure looked a whole lot like Sawyer.  He ran to me like he wanted to play, but then he pee’d on me!  Well…. sprayed me with pee….  (How rude!)  Mom said a lot of words I didn’t understand, and then, she told me that it was way too late to give me a bath, and she gave me a towel and said I had to sleep outside.  The rest of the week she locked me in the bathroom.  That part kinda sucked. 

And there was that one time I tried pot.  That weird, smelly neighbor left a brownie out in the yard and it was DELICIOUS.  Then, the next thing I knew, Mom was shaking me awake. I was so fricking dizzy that I couldn’t even stand up!  And HOLY MOLY stuff was super scary, especially at the hospital.  All I wanted to do was curl up in Mom’s lap and sleep.  I knew Mom was really upset because she cried, but I didn’t know why.  Then she took me home. Then, in the middle of the night, I REALLY, REALLY had to potty.  So she took me outside.  THEN… she freakin’ smelled my poo…  Yea…. She SMELLED it…  I’ve never seen my mom do that!  That’s Sawyer’s job.  He’s my brother.  He must have told her something to make her want to do that. Then, she took me back to the house and out of nowhere, she started laughing her butt off.  She shook her head and smiled at me and said, “Ok Cheech! Now that I know what’s wrong with you, you better get a job to pay that fuckin’ vet bill!” What a silly mom, cheech isn’t a word.

My mom says I’m the World’s Best Bad Dog.  And as the World’s Best Bad Dog, my mom says she will always rush me to the vet at the drop of a hat, and she will always snuggle me and tell me I’m pretty even if I lose my hair. She will always sacrifice her best towels for those blasted skunk nights.  She will always coddle me for a few minutes when that tiny scratch on my lip feels like my face is falling off, and she will always, always kick pot-head ass if she thinks anyone would try that nasty brownie trick again.

 And I know that as long as she’s calling me by my many pet names, I’m a good girl.  It’s when I hear, “BROOKE LYNNE” that I’m in deep shit….Time-outs are just torture! 

Love, Brooke

also known as Brookie, Brooken Foot, Dummy, Stinky, Cheeky Little Shit, Dances with Skunks, Cheech and Mama’s Chili Bean