Every month, Patches the Murd — a mutt of no documented lineage and considerable moral authority — writes a letter to your dog. In high Victorian English. On virtue, squirrels, and the vanity of purebreds.
FIFTEEN DOLLARS A MONTH. THY DOG IS WORTH IT.
"Dearest Murd — a doodle hath joined my household, and my mistress proclaimeth him hypoallergenic, superior, and 'basically a person.' I find myself allergic to all three claims. Counsel me."
— SNEEZING IN SCRANTON, A DOG
Dearest Sneezing — Be not troubled. A dog with papers is still a dog; he hath merely cost more. Bid him drink from the porcelain bowl alongside thee, that he may remember what he is…
"Pedigree is vanity in a collar."
— THE MURD, PROBABLY
* placeholder — the real letters are yours to write, fresh each month.
The Murd keeps a registry of approved physicians of beasts. Find thine own: