Dear Daughter-of-mine,

I finally realized the (evil) genius of that dog of yours this morning. All this time I excused him thinking his wee pee brain just couldn't learn anything ! As I put him out (like every morning) he did his pretense of peeing in the yard, then came in the house to crap on the den floor like usual. Standing off in the corner to enjoy watching my reaction. I enjoyed fantasies like shipping him off to Michael Vic or beating him with the roll of paper towels in my hand. I did notice the large lake of pee he put in the kitchen sometime during the night, but only now realize it was placed there to give me false security as I walked into the dining room.

As I slipped, almost falling for the 19th time, I finally put it all together. He is subtle: the amount of pee was small enough in the dining room for me not to see it, and the clever placement in the grout made it all the more invisable. I know now he IS out to kill or mame me, that he does plan to take over once I'm out of the way.

If I'm found on the floor with a broken neck, DO NOT pass it off as a common household accident! Closer inspection will reveal Reggie Mantle, the adopted pet, the pet we raised as one of our own, is indeed the murderer.
I'm leaving it to you to see justice is done: I want him to go to the gas chamber (I assume they still have these somewhere, I know he wouldn't fit in the electric chair). Do not bring him into your home, once he has killed, he will only kill again! Never underestimate the cunning wile of this monster!

Have a nice day,

Dad