Dear Abby,

We haven't met but I need to get something off of my chest. I'm hoping you'll give me advice. I'm nearing my wit's end.

I live with a jerk. Her name is Tasha. A Persian, and we all know how they can be.

Me? I'm one hundred per cent American. A handsome Beagle/Pointer mix. I'm smart too. I know "stay", "sit" and "treat". (Oh, that is my favorite.)

But enough about me. Tasha is new to the house. She doesn't know the rules. I could cut her some slack on that if she wasn't such a, oh, what is the word I'm looking for? Actually, I know the perfect word but I don't want to sully my sweet mother's memory. Bitch. Ok, I said it. Tasha is a bitch.

She stands guard at the top of the stairs and won't let me pass. She will make this horrendous sound when she's hungry, irritated or just bored. When I make noise, you better believe I have good reason. The squirrels are getting too close to the house or the UPS driver has just delivered that Amazon package we've been waiting on. I have valid reasons. I am a responsible member of society.

Tasha is like something off of Jersey Shore. She's loud, abrasive and I just don't understand why she's here.

If I try to set her straight, I get hauled over to the crate and called a "very bad boy".

The other day, somebody left a dirty plate on the edge of the counter. I'll admit I was checking it out. Who wouldn't? Tasha hops up on the counter and starts licking it. It was mine. She knew darn well that I had first dibs. How can she be so rude?

So, I have to tread carefully. What should I do? I'm really starting to lose it.

Thanks in advance,

Pip