Dear Goddamned Beagle,
I don’t know what’s up with you today. Perhaps it’s the weather, maybe the impending trip, maybe the lack of available Things to focus on, but if you don’t mind me saying so, you’re completely off your head.
Growling at anyone carrying anything (other than food) seems foolhardy, as you never know what might have food *in* it, after all. Howling at all passers by, at the door, at nothing in particular certainly serves to let me know things are not right, but in no way helps me know *which* things, as you’re kind of doing it non-stop today.
Your heavy breathing and snorting is alarming, though you’re never exactly genteel.
Regardless, while I’m sorry you’re having a bad day, I just want you to know that I appreciate your instant response to being burritoed by yours truly.
I get it. Some days you just need someone to put a blanket over you, feed you some eggs and place you near a convenient window sill.
No problem.
Love,
Your Person 