(Or should I call you Mr. Claus? I’m uncertain what the proper degree of formality is for this.)
My name is Michga, but you probably already know that. My mommy said you will already know who I am. She also said if I write to you and tell you what I want for Christmas, you’ll bring it to me, as long as I’ve been a good girl.
I attempted to point out the fallacy of logic – how could you even determine whether I have been a good girl? Have you been watching me all year? Do you rely on witness testimony? Is there an exam I have to take? – But my arguments fell on deaf ears. Mommy just told me to please stop barking at nothing, pretending she could not understand me. I do not know how I put up with her sometimes.
Despite my skepticism, I decided to give this a shot. I haven’t written to you any other year, and maybe this is why I only received two new toys last year.
This is an unacceptable tragedy, the likes of which are unparalleled in canine history. I am a princess; I should be swimming in toys. Perhaps if I write to you, I will not be so egregiously neglected this year. I have been a good girl, I assure you. I only bit a person that one time (he should not have gotten so close to my mommy while she was holding me). Otherwise, I am the best dog in the whole wide world.
According to my mommy, anyway.
Below, please find a list of my desired presents. I have written them in a numerical list, because I am told humans are fond of this kind of organization.
1. A real squirrel. For some reason, all the ones outside do not seem to understand that I can’t climb trees, which makes them very difficult to play with. Kindly bring me one that I can keep inside, or at least one that does not run so fast.
I would accept the ability to climb trees as a substitute.
3. Ban bath time.
4. Could you get my mommy a smaller trash can? At present I cannot reach it, and it smells so good. It is like a putrid sky scraper, too tall to climb and too heavy to knock over. It taunts me.
At present I do not have enough places in which to lounge. An entire human bed is insufficient to capture the pampered aura that this hammock puts off. I hope your elves can make something like this.
6. Ten squeaker toys.
Ten. Not two. Ten. 1-0.
7. This contraption called iCPooch.
It’s a device that allows humans to communicate with their dogs from their phones, and dispense treats. It would help solve the two biggest problems in my life: I do not get enough treats, and I do not get enough attention. Mommy clearly does not love me enough to get me one, but perhaps you do, Santa.
Well, that’s all. Very modest requests, as I told you. You may leave my gifts below the strange object that looks like a tree, and yet cannot be a tree. It smells like plastic and cardboard.
Thank you in advance,