Dearest Henry, Doggy, Lover, Snuggle-Pup,
I look forward to our mornings when you gnaw at my door and spend my waking hour on my bed, although your customs may be weird I don't mind petting you under the collar in exchange for you licking my hand. And Ive enjoyed our days as businessman, trading couches for cheese and game shows for stuffed toys and squeaky bones.
I'm not sure what rumors you've heard or if you've noticed the over population of books and clothes in my (our) bedroom these past couple days, but I just wanted to tell you the truth myself. Yes, it is true I am leaving you. I'm leaving you for a bitch, her name is Architecture School. It's in a place far away, too many a barfing in the backseat of a car. A place called SLo MO which, believe me buddy, moves painstakingly slower than your mornings and afternoons spent on the couch.
Although as bad as I feel about myself, I know you have been cheating on me with those nasty dirty dishes before they go through the dishwasher, licking them so glutinously. So that takes a bit of my guilt away. But, how could you do that?!?! Did you not just see me put the dishes there?
I do still love you Henry. Just do me a favor and try to remember me when I come back years (dog years) from now.
Guy with beard who stays home all week