Dear Santa
This is my first-ever letter to you, although I will soon be 8.
I was a racing dog until the age of 5 ½ when I came to live with mummy. I was still settling in during our first Christmas together and, last year, you might remember that we had our photo taken together.
Back then, I just thought you were a guy that was over-dressed for a warm summer day. I wasn’t sure about sitting next to you but that’s what mummy wanted and so I did it to make her happy.
Then someone told me that you are the one who brings presents at Christmas.
So I’m writing because for Christmas I’d like a bed; I already have a bed – this one is for mummy.
You see, I don’t think there’s enough room for both of us in my bed. When mummy is in bed with me in the hot weather, I get too hot. So I’d like another bed for mummy.
But there isn’t enough room in our bedroom for another bed and I do like sleeping close to mummy so I was hoping you could arrange to make the bedroom bigger, too.
Now I know I’m asking for a lot, but everyone says that you are really good at what you do – getting around the world in one night and leaving everyone presents. And it isn’t like you’ve heard from me for the last 7 years. That should count for something.
I have faith in you, Santa.
You got this.
Love,
Izzy
DoggyMom.com 