Saturday, March 27, 2010

An Open Letter To Cesar Millan From Tulip the Boston Terrier

Dear Mr. Cesar Millan,

My name is Tulip and I am a ten-month old Boston Terrier and I am writing to inform you of the impending situation that I am afraid is a result of your teachings. I have been aware of you and your program, The Dog Whisperer, for quite some time and although I do not always agree with your methods, with the exception of some extreme cases involving some of my more troubled canine brethren, I have remained silent to let you pursue your life in a manner of your own choosing. However, my human roommates after discussing watching your show yet never mustering the energy to actually watch it, arbitrarily decided to change their routine and would you care to hazard a guess as to what delivered from Netflix yesterday? No? Well, allow me to spell it out for you: The Dog Whisperer with Cesar Millan - Season 1 - Disk 1.

Please understand, Mr. Millan, that I am a good doggy and I enjoy having the run of the house and a certain degree of...power..., but for the most part I strategically let my roommates believe that they are the ones "calling the shots," and they seemed to be content with the knowledge, but this looks to no longer be the case. Allow me to extrapolate. Over the course of the evening and through to the early morning , the pair watched the first six episodes of your show and after consuming monstrous burritos, many bottles of beer and then pumpkin waffles with coffee, I noticed a slight stirring in their poor befuddled little minds. Ideas were forming. Ideas, Mr. Millan. Ideas that I did not approve of.

Look at this situation from my point of view if you will and answer truthfully. How would you feel upon hearing the tall male roommate, Donist, as he turned to his wife to say, "I think we need to Cesar Millan her ass. Maybe we should buy a choker." Now, do you see where I am coming from? I repeat, "Cesar Millan her ass." Is that type of phrasing and - more dangerously - that type of thinking acceptable to you? Do you really wish to encourage such thoughts, despite how everything had been progressing up until now? To be honest, I am pretty sure of how you would answer, and that in and of itself is equally disappointing and sad, but then I am hardly surprised after the success of your books, product lines and six seasons worth of television shows.

Oh swell. The roommates are rallying and saying that it is time to go on a new type of walk and I have the pleasure of watching Donist attempt to make the leash into a choker. It is a shame, really, now that the poor things things think they are in control and my life is about to take a turn for the worst. All that I can hope is that my letter has in some way shown you the darker side of your teachings and the grounds that we canines have now permanently lost, but again I have my doubts. Shame on you Cesar Millan for taking away my cushy lifestyle. Shame on you.

Tulip from Santa Barbara


1 comment:

  1. Dear Tulip,

    Your roommates are trying to help you achieve a more secure lifestyle for yourself. They know that you will be more comfortable if you give your power up and put it in the hands of someone more capable: a human. Your so-called roommates are actually your pack leaders. Trust them. They know what's best for you.