I thought I should write you a letter from camp Grand-Ma-Pa to let you know how things are going. I hope you are having fun at the beach, but I miss you. Grandma and grandpa are pretty nice, but they don’t play kick-ball and I don’t know why. Also, grandpa told me no way is he going to go hunting for anything slimy, like frogs or snakes or worms. This doesn’t make sense to me.
They feed me well, but make me play with them all the time. Sometimes they barely let me alone. I have to play with them on the bed every night because they feel so sad when I’m sleeping in my crate. I am trying to be a good guest, so I go along with all of the playing.
Grandma yelled at grandpa the other day because he tried to give me a pretzel. One lousy pretzel! It wasn’t even a whole pretzel, just a little piece. Grandma told him that you don’t give me table food and he wasn’t supposed to either. I wish Grandma would shut up. I really wanted that blasted pretzel, but he didn’t give it to me. I think he’s scared of grandma. He gave me extra treats that night. Don’t tell grandma.
I’m pooping and peeing every day. Outside. I knew you would want to know that. When grandma and grandpa go away they put a pillow on the kitchen table so I can jump up, look out the front window and guard the house. Can you believe I am the only one guarding this house, too, just like at home? I’m exhausted. More tomorrow.
Love, Your dog, Winnie