Hello. It is I, Penelope, a sorrowful, sullen, disgruntled shadow of a dog who was formerly filled with cheer.
When last I spoke with you about my plan to access the secret passage to France, I had closed my eyes to rest for a moment.
Not even a minute. Only seconds.
During those seconds, Mom Mom clapped handcuffs on me, put me in a straitjacket, and thrust me in a cage with a padlock. What could a poor, little doggy have done to deserve such ghastly treatment?
I soon figured out what Mom Mom was up to. She dashed out the backdoor and replaced the broken flower pots to keep me from my dream of climbing the stairs to France!
Yes, she is that selfish and uncaring. She hasn't gone to France, so she doesn't want me to go.
Mom Mom laughed with glee at the destruction!
She thinks she is so funny, but she's not funny at all.
Now, all I can do is visit the site of my youthful longing to look at Mom Mom's ugly, stinky flowers.
That is all. Goodbye from the saddest and most disappointed dog who has ever lived. At long last, I shall give in to my desire to weep.
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