Dear pets,

As much as I love you (and I really do love you), there have to be some immediate changes or I'm going to have to move out. Honestly, you can keep the house.

Rupert, I do appreciate your mouse catching prowess, but you do not have permission to bring the mouse into our bedroom and play with it. And, having kicked you out, but not having realized that there was, in fact, a dead mouse beside my bed, I have to admit that I was surprised to hear you were back, and now crunching on something.

Dead. And 50% mouselike.

I just can't wrap my head around cleaning up that kind of mess at 4am.

And Roxie, gosh you are adorable. You are a big, lumpy kind of adorable, and we consider getting you to be one of the finest decisions we've ever made. But Rox, you just exploded last week, and I would so appreciate it if you would stop eating cat food (yes, it was an oversight on my part that you could get to it) and upsetting your stomach. I ache from head to toe tonight, and because everyone is at BGA's hockey game, I thought I was going to have some time alone to spin... and then make some dinner. Instead I had the ever-exploding dog to clean up after and then bathe.

Gag me.

You other two pets? Please be on notice that this letter does not imply permission for you to do anything that wakes me up or makes me heave. Or both at once.

Yours truly,
Mom

Ps: Rox? There is NO CHANCE in the world that I'm going to let you out right now. No chance at all.