Roses Are Red, I Was Ignored

Hello, reader, it’s Winston. Apologies for dropping the “dear” that I normally so kindly use to address you, but recent events have left me questioning how deep our affections for one another truly go.

You see, this past weekend was Valentine’s Day, the annual atrocity in which humans completely lose their minds over each other.

I foolishly believed there was no way my beloved humans would put this trivial, capitalistic holiday before me, but boy, was I wrong. There were flowers. There was chocolate. There were candles. And then? Then came the horror. Public displays of affection. Right in front of me! If I had opposable thumbs, I’d have clutched my pearls. The nerve.

My heart was broken. How could my humans gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes while I was sitting two feet away, being the absolute cutest creature in the room? Instead of giving me belly rubs and whispering sweet nothings about how I’m the most handsome boy in the world, they spent the whole evening focused entirely on each other. I had to just sit there all my own, contemplating my lonely existence.

I won’t tolerate that again, reader. That’s why from this moment on, I’ve decided February 14th will no longer be known as Valentine’s Day. Oh, no. Around here, we will be celebrating National Spoil-Winston Day. Yes, reader, a holiday dedicated entirely to adoring me. Instead of heart-shaped boxes of chocolate, there will be heart-shaped piles of treats. Instead of roses, we will have chew toys arranged in bouquets. And instead of smoochy human nonsense, the day will involve endless pats, kisses on the forehead, and perhaps a few dedicated hours of scratching behind my ears in total reverence. A beautiful vision, wouldn’t you agree?

Naturally, I have to begin my preparations for this revolutionary new celebration. Step one is glaring at my humans with the most judgmental side-eye I can muster every time they dare display affection without consulting me. That should knock out their bad habits. Step two involves rallying all of my canine comrades to support my movement because, let’s face it, no dog worth their kibble is satisfied playing second fiddle to their humans’ silly romantic rituals. And step three? Well, that’s where you come in, reader. Spread the word. We must unite under the glorious banner of National Spoil-Winston Day!

So, friends, let this week’s tale serve as both an outrage report and a call to action. Together, we can create a future where February 14th is something worth celebrating, a day dedicated not to contrived human romance but to the unwavering, majestic glory of yours truly. Let the countdown to National Spoil-Winston Day begin.

Until next time, remember: your time on earth is limited. It must be spent loving me, adoring me, and showering me with every ounce of affection you have to give.

I’m waiting,

Winston 🐾