I Was Here First

M E M O R A N D U M

TO:            Residents of Fordeville

FROM:       Señor, Head Household Pet and Chief Bacon Officer

DATE:         January 11, 2013

SUBJECT:   Family Expansion

* * *

I know the last time I wrote a letter, I got a little heavy-handed and involved my legal team, which may have been overkill.  I admit, I did that in a moment of rage.  This time, I’ve decided to take a more personal approach with my plea by using the family member-to-family member approach.

{But please know that I will call in counsel if I have to.}

Sooooo, I hear that you’ve decided to bring a third human child into this household.  Congratulations.

I’m sure remotely hopeful that we can all live together in peace, but you won’t mind if I suggest a few ground rules, right?  Because, honestly, I don’t remember you ever mentioning any of this family planning when you brought me home nine years ago and I was the center of the fucking universe.  You remember those days, right?  Treats on demand.  Long walks in the park.  Saturday afternoons at the dog run.  Birthday presents that entailed more thought than a crappy drive-by at Petco on your way home.  Yes, the glory days.  Or, more specifically, The Bacon Years.

Anyway, shortly afterwards, you went on to marry that nice guy who always gives me treats.  And he has been a very good addition.  We totally have a mano-a-mano thing going.  But then, things changed.  To be precise, it was at the moment the two of you started bringing home unauthorized human children.  And I really thought that two was plenty, but clearly my vote counts for nothing anymore.

The point is this:  I think I have been fairly adaptable up to this point.  But, I am aging, and I have become a little more ornery over the years.  So let’s just get a few things on the table about how I’ll survive this new arrival.

1)  I’m going to need my own room.  I mean, I totally appreciate the various beds I have stationed throughout the house for my personal comfort {that last one, at Christmas — the memory foam gig — nice touch, but it’s not going to keep me out of your bed at night}.  But, look, much like the concept of the man cave, I just need my own area to relax and decompress from the events of the day.  Ever since your kids became mobile and vocal, I can barely get in 20 hours of sleep a day.  Do you know what that does to my mental health?  So I was thinking — that new basement you guys pimped out?   I’ll just take that and make it my own.

2)  Again, I’m not a pony.  I hear you, now and then, casually telling your two children to remove themselves from my back and that I am not, in fact, a passenger vehicle.  It’s a nice gesture, but maybe you could put some real effort behind that message — you know, like when they try to scale the Christmas tree?  Surely you realize they both outweigh my 22 lbs.  Are you trying to kill me?  Let’s just nip this in the bud with the third kid and give me a three-foot radius of solitude on a 24/7 basis, OK?

3)  More bacon.  I hear that, in your pregnant state, you are craving bacon.  This is good news that warms my little heart.  It seems that we’ve finally found an aspect of this situation that is mutually beneficial.  As you know, bacon is my favorite thing on the planet.  And yet, you deny me in an ongoing effort to have me maintain a healthy weight.  Lady, we both know that ship has sailed.  I don’t want to hit below the belt, but can I assume that I won’t be the only one around here with a few extra rolls soon?  So let’s just enjoy the next five months of Fordeville Baconfest together, shall we?  It may be an opportunity for us to re-establish our bond, like the good old days.  And don’t try to fool me with that bullshit turkey substitute.  I want the real deal.

* * *

I don’t mean to be harsh.  It’s not that I don’t get any enjoyment out of your kids.  In fact, I’ve really come to appreciate the benefits of their horrific table manners — because they result in a gold mine buffet for me on the floor {I believe you call it The Swiffer Effect}.  And they are total suckers for my “go get me a treat” face.

We’ve reached a pretty good place, I think, overall.  Even if they have no concept of volume control.  I count my blessings many days that my hearing is going.

Anyway, I think my requests are simple enough.  We can all co-exist if everyone remembers one important thing:  I was here first.

Otherwise, I’m so out of here.