Dear kind and gentle readers – yes, it’s once again me, the beagle.
I’m really liking Mom being home during the day. Why? Because she’s taking me for a walk nearly every day. Oh such joy – I get to check pee mail! Poop on the neighbors lawns! And best of all, I’m finding all kinds of things to eat.
I go along, nose to the ground, when suddenly I get a whiff of something. The other day at the park, I took off into the woods, shuffling through leaves that were nearly halfway up my short little legs. Mom let the retractable leash out, not dreaming that I was on the scent of something yummy until I snatched up a stale bun. Whoa – did she ever reel me in. Worse yet, she dug it out of my mouth and told me I was a bad boy. Then she threw it back into the woods. I got the last laugh though. As we walked away, I turned around, snatched it back up and nearly got it down before she dug it out of my mouth again. ** sigh ** I was so close to eating it too.
I’m keeping a pretty good trot out there! Mom’s getting a brisk walk in and so am I. In fact, the other day she texted Dad that I was acting wild. So she walked me around the entire park. THE WHOLE PARK. I could barely make it back to the car! In fact, we were nearly there and I just ran out of mojo. She finally coaxed me back to the car and then – this is so embarrassing – she had to boost my butt up into the car because I was too tired to hop in.
For some reason, her and Dad found it incredibly funny when we get home. Just because I stood there in the hallway, swaying on my feet and trying to sleep while keeping an eye on Mom. Because I knew she was getting ready to take my brother, the Vizsla, out for his walk. How dare she? Those walks are for ME. NOT him. She left despite my vigilance and I made sure to howl and sob so she could hear me all the way out to the street. Yeah, until Dad yelled at me to stop. Hey! I’m entitled to ALL the walks! Who knows what I’m missing out there!?!?!
I slept the rest of the day. In fact, I might have been snoring. Dad complained about having trouble hearing the television, although more likely it was my brother. I’m sure it couldn’t have been me.
For some reason, my walks have been much shorter after that. I think I’ve been a little too tired afterwards. And Mom’s had to boost me up into the car a few more times even though we only walked half the park. I don’t understand why she doesn’t want to risk having to carry me back to the car. I think she used the terms too fat and build like a brick shit house. Whatever that is. I think it’s slang for being a dense muscle machine who can’t be moved when he digs in. Stop laughing! It’s not funny!
I do have one complaint – MMMOOOOMMMM!!!! Why can’t you make the weather better? I come in from the backyard, where it’s raining / snowing / cold. I expect to walk out the garage to a warm and sunny day, fit for a beagle. Mom! Mom! You’re falling down on the job. I want my walks and I do not, do not, do not, understand why the weather isn’t perfect when we walk out the garage door.
So in closing,
remember that I still need treats. Lots and lots of treats. I’ve been told to simply say a nice goodbye. I still could use treats. I’m NOT fat. Send treats.
The treat-deprived beagle.
[Editor’s note – remember “truth” is a bit subjective for a beagle. He is not treat deprived. Yes, he snores. And nothing is more pitiful than the very loud and mournful wail of a beagle who after getting a very long walk, got left behind so his brother can get a walk.]
To see all the beagle stories, click here.
For more beagle pictures, click here.
Did you notice the depth of field used in these photos? The first and last kept the beagle’s head in focus, while softening the appearance of everything else. The middle one used a depth of field that made the whole thing sharp. This is in response to the weekly photo challenge of depth. To see how other photographers interpreted this, click here.
I am a backyard adventurer, philosopher and observer, recording my life in journals and photographs. Visit my blog at www.livingtheseasons.com or write me at dogear6 [at] gmail [dot] com.