My Dear Satan,

I hope this letter finds you well. It is snowing here, but as nothing extraordinarily unexpected has happened recently, I imagine not there. First I must express my gratitude for the gift, which was at once expected and most unexpected. Yes, I had asked for a dog and a dog was delivered to me, though you must admit, we are certainly stretching the definition of “dog.” Cerberus, as we have named him, is a delight in many ways: the dulcet tones of his baritone growls (which often register on the Richter scale), the way his three heads perk up at the sound of dozens of dog food cans being opened, his warm breath singeing the sheets as he slumbers at the foot of what was once our bed. But he can be a handful. The neighbor children are scarred for life and I don’t think that sycamore tree will ever grow back.The homeowners association is fining me a small fortune each day the hound remains. So it is with deep regret that I must write and ask that you kindly take him back. To be clear, the fault lies entirely with me. For I wrote a letter and you responded dutifully and correctly, but in my letter I transposed some characters, turning my intended recipient, Santa, into something else entirely. I do hope you will understand our difficult situation and respond quickly, while we still have a home from which to remove him.

All our best,
The Davidsons