Hi Tin,
People say xmas is an important and emotional season with more words of kindness and less barking. I’m writing this letter to express some good things I’ve been feeling, but kept inside due to being a dog restrictions.

We got a bit closer as I stayed over a few times the past year. Watching each other poop does create a stronger bond it seems. In our world kickin’ shit means so much more.

Then you know, things got quite rough. Dee and I had gone through hard times with my blindness and her soul-searching. We were both losing our minds – myself to dementia, I’m not sure what Dee’s problem was exactly.

Did you really just took me home, washed my paws and introduced me to a concept of private dinning? I didn’t ask too many questions back then, cause, well, I couldn’t. But wow. You just took me home.

My life changed so much with that one decision. All our lives did, really, but I’m just speaking from my perspective. Suddenly, I was on your and Lasse’s couch in Diemen, contemplating whenever it’s worth to get down on the floor, waiting for you to come home and wrestle me a bit. You showed me how to have a good time, with your touch and shakes I felt like I matter. I felt like one on the three or four, or twenty, when things at your place got wild and rowdy. I felt celebrated each day, despite on leaving my marks all over the floor, expensive taxis, complicating your schedule and my overall smelliness.

Thank you for loving me at my most complicated self –– an old dog with a sensitive puppy inside. Thanks for protecting us both from uptight neighbours and high pace of life. I so love you too, searching for you in my sleep, hoping you’d come out your room for midnight peanut butter sandwich.

I am one lucky son a bitch.
Love you, papa.

Richi