Amazing Kids! Magazine

Saavik’s Letter to her Mother

By Grace Weppler, age 8, Germany


Dear Mommy Dog,


Are you well? I am your child number 2. My human family calls me Saavik. In fact, I have many names: Sweetie, Angel or Baby (when the girl calls me), Dummy (when the boy calls me), and the dog (when the adults call me).

I live in a cozy home with four humans. My favorite is the girl. She is 8 years old and is my primary owner (I was her Christmas gift). She holds me the most and yells at me the least! She calls me “Angel“, but I think she must be an angel herself. The boy who is her brother doesn’t like me. I think he feels threatened by my existence. Everyone calls me the cute one and the baby. Before I came, he was the baby in the family.

The grown woman in the family says that she is my mommy. The kids call her “Mommy“ too, which means they are my brother and sister. This family tree gets very confusing because the girl says that I am her baby. Does this make sense? She is my sister and mommy at the same time? By the way, the adults always scream at me when I take care of my private business. Once I peed in the living room, they yelled at me “no“. So, the next time, I did it in the kitchen, and they yelled at me again.  I kept trying different areas of the house, thinking that surely there must be someplace where taking care of my private business is allowed (you know, bathroom, I mean). Each time, they got angrier at me and yelled at me even louder! Mom, can you give me some tips on how to stop them from yelling at me?

I also have a friend, a good looking beagle, in my neighborhood. His name is Cooper, and he lives two houses down the street. We talk about almost everything. We often discuss important matters affecting our community, politics, religion, and culture. For some reason, this bothers my family. They say I bark too much. Well, I don’t have any other way to communicate and keep in touch with my friend. I don’t have a phone, e-mail or facebook. I can’t have him over for a nice bone or a chew toy. I think adults are quite self-centered. They can’t put themselves in my shoes, although I don’t need one. What I need is a good bone, not a shoe.

Overall, I am happily settled here, although they are pressuring me to learn some tricks. They criticize me for being a slow learner, but I am not. I am just not motivated. I don’t feel the need to learn their tricks. Why should I? I am quite good the way I am. I am happy just the way I am. It is happiness that counts, not achievement. How can I help them realize this?

Bye, bye Mother, and say hello to my brother if he is still there with you.

P.S. The girl who is dictating this letter tells me that she already loves me the way I am.


Your Dear Furry Daughter,