I had to drag Daddy to the farm where you were for sale.
You were on clearance, even.
I can't believe no one wanted you.
I did.
Immediately.
When I saw your tiny puppy face.
I had wanted a Beagle for ever and ever.
I had your name waiting.
Even though I still mostly call you Brown Dog.
Or, Brown Doggy.
Within a few weeks, Daddy loved you most.
I love how you liked him so much, you MADE him love you.
It must be that canine sense.
You'll always be my first baby.
You were the biggest thing Daddy and I did after we got married.
You've made us laugh.
And cuss.
And gloat.
And cry.
But not a lot.
I can't wait for all these next years with you in our home.
You're fiercely loyal.
Perceptive.
Sweet.
Predictable.
And us humans talk about you and FOR you more than any sane people should.
I am sorry I called you fat on the blog. You're mad. Yes you are. Would it be better if I called you phat?
We love you.
You made us parents.
And a family.
Conventional or not.
You were first.
We love you bigger than a Milkbone.
And more than the blankets in your bed.
Happy Birthday, Beagle.
Mama loves.
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