06/04/2025
Dear Dog Mum,
A delivery arrived today. Naturally, I assumed it was for me — because who else would it be for? I am, quite clearly, the emotional backbone of this household. The glue that holds this entire operation together. The living, breathing serotonin dispenser you rely on daily.
But no.
It was not for me.
It was skincare.
Skincare.
You spent actual money — real, human currency — on your pores… instead of my paws.
Let’s pause here. You didn’t buy treats. You didn’t buy a plush toy with seven squeakers that I can tear open in under four minutes. You didn’t even spring for one of those overpriced enrichment puzzles I pretend to care about for 15 minutes and then ignore completely. No. You bought a moisturiser. For your face.
I wasn't consulted. I wasn’t involved in the decision-making process. I wasn’t even given the courtesy of a sniff test. Apparently, we’re just tossing fiscal responsibility out the window and investing in serums while I am left — abandoned, some might say — with a headless duck I received yesterday. Yes. Yesterday. In dog years, that’s already vintage. It belongs in a museum next to old tennis balls and dignity.
And now, the budget. Let’s talk about that.
When exactly did we, as a family unit, decide that collagen would take precedence over KONGs? When did squeaky toys fall below serums in our household priorities? Was there a summit? A vote? A referendum? Because I sure as hell didn’t get the memo. And if this is how we’re allocating resources now, I demand a full audit.
I feel betrayed. I feel overlooked. And I feel personally attacked by your glowing complexion.
No amount of moisturiser is going to fix the cracks you’ve put in this relationship. You may be dewy, but emotionally, we are dry. Arid, even.
So go ahead. Enjoy your soft skin.
I’ll be in the corner. Staring into the void.
Chewing on what remains of Duckington.
Who, unlike me, never stood a chance.
Yours in disappointment,
Your Dog. Chief Joy Officer. Pawsonal Finance Manager. Victim.
