Beagle Poetry

This poem is from Bela's perspective. In my mind she has a thick southern Italian accent. Anyway, we were out walking Bela the other evening and just as she was getting ready to do her business a man rounded the corner walking two large dogs. Bela hates other dogs, is suspicious of them and their intentions, so of course she couldn't leave herself vulnerable by taking a dump and instead dragged us down the street post haste. The first line of the poem is just the offhand comment that I made at the time. MK noted that it sounded like the beginning of a horrible poem, so this is all her fault.


My ass is full of bitter turds
each one an homage to your face
I have feasted on the moldy cheese of your love
and now suffer for all eternity on the shores of Garbage Island

Of Inertia and Beagles

MK and Bela

Precious Beagle Moments

Junior and baby Bela

I keep this pic up on the 'fridge to remind me exactly what Bela does with her ears right before she's about to do evil. They flare out at the sides instead of lying flat, and then she nips at you, eats a magic marker and poops purple for days.
In this instance, when I took this photo, Bela twisted free and bit a hole in Junior's sweater. After that she ran around like a maniac while I chased her with a fly swatter and shaking a can of pennies. Eventually we all calmed down and watched 'The Bold and the Beautiful'.

Bela Update, 11/5

After last night's election watching, I'm exhausted today. So, I'm offering up a beagle update. This past weekend Bela figured out how to jump up on the table out back on the patio, but then couldn't figure out how to get back down.
D'oh!
She's a sweetie, a bit nebby, but still a sweetie. She's almost entirely moved out of her puppy biting phase, and our fingers and ankles are grateful for that. Lastly, she is a bit of a tudball, so I guess I'm going to have to cut back on her morning eggy (typically a soft boiled egg like my mom used to make for me when I was a kid).

Beagle Update

Beagle's are such nebby dogs. Bela likes to lurk on the stairs and peek through the spindles or around the corner to see what we're up to, without actually committing to joining us. Unless, that is, food in any form enters the scenario. Then she barrels at us like a black and tan cannonball and shamelessly begs with her soft brown pleading eyes.

Beagle Update

Yesterday Bela turned 6 months old. She is a holy terror, chewing up half the house, when not humping a stuffed loon that is now wrapped entirely in duct tape. She drags poor loonie around by its neck, periodically humps it, then moves on to bite us or shred something important.
Nothing but an endless joy for all concerned! Just when we think that we can't tolerate one more second of her puppydom, she falls asleep, and looks so innocent and angelic and precious that all of my previous dark thoughts concerning her future seem so alien and brutish.
Sigh. Soon, I keep thinking, soon she will stop biting the tender flesh on my inner thigh and ripping up the newspaper before I get a chance to do the crossword.