Dear Abby Letters Push Back on Boundaries

Two Dear Abby letters lay out uncomfortable personal limits—one about a friend’s dog roaming a home and another about a sister refusing to share photos or welcome family visits after decades abroad.
A friend’s “wonderful” little dog didn’t just romp around—it left muddy pawprints on furniture and turned the host’s home into a cleanup project.
In the first letter. a disgruntled reader in Michigan describes a visitor who calls ahead or pops by every few months. The friend is generous and arrives with homemade treats or flowers from her garden, and the two chat easily. But the dog is always there too. and the reader says the dog—described by the friend as the most “wonderful little doggie in the world”—goes through every room and jumps onto beds. a couch. and even needlepoint chairs.
The reader’s patience ran out after the last visit. She had to launder two bedspreads and clean the couch because the dog tracked mud inside. When she raised the issue—suggesting the dog’s feet were muddy—the friend replied that she had wiped the dog’s feet. The reader says that clearly wasn’t true.
The reader isn’t asking for advice on how to tolerate the situation. She says she simply doesn’t want the dog in her home anymore. She has a patio where they can visit. and when weather is good she can send her friend and the dog outside. But the letter turns to the immediate problem: what to say when the friend shows up at her door with the dog anyway.
Abby’s answer was blunt and practical. Direct the friend and her dog straight to the kitchen. close the door so the dog can’t roam the house. and keep the visit there. The letter writer would also be able to eat the friend’s treats and receive the flowers more conveniently. If the friend asks why the dog can’t be on the furniture. Abby advises saying that the reader loves the pooch but no longer wants him on the furniture. If the friend becomes offended. Abby warns the friendship could end—but if the reader can’t draw a line now. she writes. the relationship may keep feeling less appealing.
The second letter takes a different kind of boundary—one stretched across distance and time, not mud and furniture. A reader identifies herself as Isolated Sister Abroad. Her younger sister is divorced and has raised two sons who are now young adults. but they feel like strangers to the writer. The sisters have an on-and-off relationship, but the writer says she and her sister love each other despite their differences.
The deeper separation is geographic. The writer has been living in France for the past 30 years, and she says she hasn’t seen her sister in 10 years. She adds that her sister has never traveled to France to visit with her sons, even though the writer offered to pay part of their expenses.
Their communication—she says—happens largely through conversation and photos. She shares photos often. Yet she says she hasn’t seen a photo of her nephews for 10 years. When she asks why, her sister laughs and says the boys dislike having their pictures taken.
To the writer, that explanation doesn’t land. She describes the situation as hurtful and sad. and she says it feels like her sister has isolated herself and her sons from the rest of the family. She wants to go see her sister. but she fears she won’t feel welcomed given the refusal to share photos and the long gaps in contact.
Abby’s response centers on asking for a concrete next step. Tell the sister that after 30 years you are booking a trip to the United States to reconnect with friends and family. and ask if she would have time to visit with you and your family. Abby says the sister’s response will reveal what’s really going on. In Abby’s view. the trip would be good for the writer—and it could happen with or without her sister’s blessing.
Both letters, in different ways, circle back to the same hard truth: relationships don’t survive on affection alone when boundaries are ignored—whether that boundary is a dog that keeps entering every room, or a family connection that keeps shrinking without explanation.
Dear Abby Abigail Van Buren Jeanne Phillips boundaries pets friendship family France sister photos visiting
Abby saying go straight to the kitchen like it’s a dog jail lol.
Idk why people act like muddy paw prints are “no big deal.” Just because she brings flowers doesn’t mean she gets to ruin my furniture.
I think she should’ve handled it nicer? Like maybe the friend meant well and just has a dog that does dog stuff. Also wouldn’t cleaning be part of hosting anyway? But if she’s really lying about wiping its feet then yeah, that’s messed up.
This whole thing sounds like the friend’s being crazy and Abby is like “just lock the door”?? Meanwhile the other letter about the sister not sharing photos—like who cares, just send a message? People used to go years without family stuff too, so it’s not like it’s new. But I guess Abby is saying boundaries are boundaries, even if it’s awkward as hell.