A Letter To Chris’ Dog, PJ

Woof PJ,

Remember me? I’m the guy you sneezed on a few years ago. I’ve forgiven you by convincing myself that sneezing on people is how dogs say hello. I’ll remember to return the favour next time! 

Just kidding, please know I’m kidding. I won’t sneeze on you. I can’t afford anymore run-ins with the dog community. 

Did you know that you are my favourite dog? Lassie, Scooby Doo, Wishbone, and Air Bud can’t hold a candle to you. Mainly because dogs can’t hold candles, but that’s not the point. 

I remember I came over to your house one time and you weren’t home. I asked where you were and Chris told me you were at work. Without skipping a beat, I said, “What does he do? Valet parking?”

Lo and behold, I was correct! I was thrilled to have guessed your occupation on the first try. If I had to guess again, I probably would’ve said something ridiculous like “dentist”. 

Dogs can’t be dentists! 

When I was in Cleveland last month, I passed by a valet parking garage and immediately thought of you. I even took a picture, just in case you recognize it as a place where some of your border collie-agues (Ha, get it?) may work. 

Lovely entrance. Big letters. Nice black outline of a tree. Or is it a shamrock? Or do you call it a “club”? Either way, you can find it on a deck of cards, or on a neighbour’s lawn when you have to go to the washroom.

PJ, I must admit something to you. I always thought PJ was short for Puddle Jumper. Why did I think that? Because when I was a kid, I asked what PJ stood for and someone in your family said, “Puddle Jumper.”

So for the longest time, that’s what I thought your name was, until Chris informed me that it was just PJ and it didn’t stand for anything. Then he said that if it did stand for something, it would be “Paul Jr.”

I was honoured. That would make me Paul Sr. because clearly there are no other Pauls in your life.

I guess I was gullible for believing your name was Puddle Jumper. I mean, I had never even seen you jump over a puddle before. I should’ve done my research. 

When I was a kid, I was always trying to figure out what abbreviations stood for. Someone said the word “essay” and I asked, “What does S.A. stand for?” 

I’m sure you can imagine the look of disappointment and sheer stupidity I had on my face when I realized that essay was a five letter word and not a two letter abbreviation. 

Alright PJ, it’s time to enter the rapid fire question portion of this letter. 

Where do puppies come from?

Eh, maybe don’t answer that one.

If dogs were to wear pants, would they wear them on all four legs or just the back two? 

Why do dogs bark when people ring the doorbell, or knock on the door, or even just come to the door in general? Shouldn’t you know the drill? Don’t make any noise, it might be someone who wants to sell you something or convert you to their religion. 

Have you ever noticed that if you rearrange the letters in “Godspeed”, you get “dogs peed”?

What are your thoughts on the underrepresentation of dogs in Hollywood these days? 

When you play ping pong, do you use dog paddles? 

Why is the identity of the individual who let the dogs out such a guarded secret? Is it the equivalent to humans being told not to talk about fight club?

Sandals or slippers?

Ice cream or chasing garbage trucks?

Sprinklers or door bells?

Final question: what are you going to be for Halloween this year? May I suggest being a hot dog? You can wear short sleeves, shorts, sunscreen, and hold a glass with ice in it. People would understand, immediately.

Well, would you look at the time! It’s five past pup, which means I must be going. 

Be well, PJ. Remember to use Kleenex when you sneeze and if you can’t make it to the box in time, use your sleeve like the rest of us. Thanks.

Godspeed and dogs peed,

Paul Sr.