From Daddy: Letter to Stella

      7 Comments on From Daddy: Letter to Stella

My dearest Stella,

These things tend to get awkward, so I’ll do my best to smooth things along.  So, we’ve met.  It was last Saturday.  I was the guy that kept trying to pin you to the ground on your back while you were quite content to get all ferocious and shit on my daughter’s hair.  Figured that would jar your memory.  Anyway, the thing of it is you are about to get hit with a fantastic amount of change all at once.  I’ll be your buddy during this transition, and I hope that by the end of it, you’ll be happy to call me daddy.

I’d ask what you’re up to, but I know exactly.  I just watched a pretty insane puppy (you) attempt to eat the skirt off of an 8 year old little girl, then when thoroughly rebuffed, take solace in hunting down and maliciously acquiring a probably used, regardlessly gross pair of dog panties.  Stella dear, I don’t really know what dog panties are all about — there are some things for which I’m comfortable maintaining my blissful ignorance.  It’s not so much that you found this particular garment, but more the flamboyant and egalitarian victory lap you took after establishing that the garment was at your mercy.  Your conduct earned you a resounding “Terrible Animal” rating from yours truly.

We, your future pack, took a vote, and for all intents and purposes, I am your pack master.  That whole, ‘pinned to the ground on your back’, thing?  Yeah, get used to it.  Even though I’m fairly certain that you will outweigh me, and I’m almost positive that you will be truly capable of taking me the fuck out at your whim and fancy, I’m going to do my best to kick your ass on a regular basis.  Don’t worry!  I think you’ll like it.  It’ll just be part of becoming a happy and healthy part of our little family unit.  On that note, I should probably warn you about your mommy.  No really, listen to this.  She has been in love with you since the very moment she knew you might possibly exist.  You are in for a good, southern smothering, so you might as well steel yourself against it.  You’re looking at a damned near constant barrage of petting, cooing, rubbing, loving, cuddling, playing fucking dress up (not my fault, I’ve got a pack master of my own), and whispering sweet nothings into your floppy, pancake-sized ears.  And really, I don’t think there’s any help for it.  That shit will happen, so just do what you can, you know, in terms of preparation and, uh, steeling.

Fortunately, you will very rapidly attain a girth, and a length, and also likely a height, and very certainly some elbows.  I don’t know how to break it to you, Stella, but you’re a…a…Great Dane.  Here’s the good news, it has the word ‘great’ right up front and all capitalized and shit.  You cannot go wrong with a capital ‘great’ anywhere in your name.  The Dane part is pretty self explanatory, except it’s not at all.  Let’s just come back to that later.  The point, the part that you really need to know, is that you are going to be one gigantic motherfucking animal.  I mean, we’re not talking gigantic as in the category of breeds, cause, for the record, you’re not even in that — you and a couple of other freaks of nature have your own category, adoringly named, ‘Colossal’.  Colossal, are you fucking kidding me?  But no, there is no mirth, no levity, you will be an imposing presence, an ominous mass of muscle, a frothy mammoth, a just plain fucking room-consuming companion animal.  I don’t know why.  It just sorta is.  We’ll deal with it, just realize that you will not really ever be small.

Tell ya what, I’ll wrap this up and pick up from here in my next letter.  You’ll be here in 10 days and I got shit to do.  Write back!

Love you soon,

7 thoughts on “From Daddy: Letter to Stella

  1. Rachel

    WTF are dog panties? I want to know if that’s a real thing, but I’m at work and I’m afraid of what Google would suggest to me if I tried to look it up right now.

  2. Nat

    Dog panties are absolutely a real thing. Mostly, it’s for bitches who are breeding. Basically to keep them from bleeding all over your shit.

  3. Rachel

    Oh, that’s not nearly as bad as what I was picturing. You know how the Japanese have those used panties vending machines for god only knows what reasons? Kind of like that. But for dogs.


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