What is LOVE, anyway?

Mother says she loves me, but she has a funny way of showing it. As I understand, love is gentle, love is kind, love means putting me in front of any other needs Mother may have. So riddle me this:

Mother says for me to enjoy optimal health, I must partake in exercise. Um, OK. The last 3 Sundays we have recommenced my postal route.  I don't mind, but it isn't really necessary... especially because we've been doing it on SUNDAY. There's no mail on Sunday, Mother. Actually, I do mind. It is sometimes really scary out there, and Mother doesn't understand, and she puts me out front and I'll get attacked first and she just doesn't understand, and...



Oh, oh, and yesterday, after our drive, she decided my tail needed washing. Sure, I have been rubbing it... why? I itch somewhere-back-there-ish. My deworming schedule eliminates that as a possible reason. Mother performed a waterless cleaning of my very private area a couple weekends ago, thinking being cleaner would perhaps stop the rubbing. Um, still rubbing. So she decided to wash my tail. Now, sure, it was 50 some degrees... but that water WAS NOT. It was very cold. But because I love Mother, I was well behaved. And I did get an awful lot of cookies later...

I guess Mother still loves me, even though she doesn't visit as often as she used to, and when she does she expects me to do so many not-so-fun things. And she respects me... she has hardly told anyone about the traumatic coat incident from last week, thank goodness. I'd never live it down if that got out.