I know you love music and the summer concert season is your busiest time of year, but couldn’t you spend some time with me? Do you always have to be rushing off to buy tickets for Bob Geldof and Vanilla Ice?

Well, maybe I shouldn’t complain. After all, you always make sure my water dish is full. You always leave a treat for me to eat and something to chew on if I get a little nervous. But I get lonely all by myself, and this big old house can be a scary place when I’m sitting alone in the dark waiting for you to come home from seeing Jump, Little Children or Doves.

Remember when you first got me? You used to spend every night rubbing my belly and patting my head. Sheer ecstasy. And remember how I would greet you when you came home? You used to say I looked “so cute” flapping my tongue and wiggling my shaggy little rump. But now you don’t even look at me, you just rush right out to see another band, like Oasis or Elbow. Whatever happened to those nights when I would spend hours licking your face and sniffing your feet? Don’t you like that anymore?

All I’m asking is that you pay a little attention to me. Spend some quality time with your best friend. I need companionship. I need someone to scratch behind my ears and pat my head. Someone to comfort me when I’m down and to celebrate with me when I’m happy. Not someone who’s just going to come home and drop some kibble in my dish before they leave for Gus Gus or Chris Robinson or whatever.

I mean, after all, is this any way to treat your husband?