Meet the Beagle.
Or, his furry doppelganger, that is. He is girl's best friend.
This stuffed pal was gifted to the lil' dude at her first Christmas- when she was a few weeks old. Her Grandma S. found him someplace, and knew she'd need a Beagle of her own. He's since sat in her basket of stuffed loveys waiting for his day.
And his day has finally come.
It should come as no surprise the force of affection this guy has bestowed on him by the girl whose room he resides in. It should come at absolutely no surprise because in real life, the Beagle takes up the most room in her heart. It's only natural his mascot would do the same. These two are fast friends. Naturally inseparable.
He's been to Target and the library and to Starbucks and the park. His white belly is full of grimy-love, as he spends his Sundays in the wagon in the yard. He has a leash tied to his neck for walks, fashioned out of a butterfly ribbon. The poor guy- he goes on lots of walks. He's been stowed in hot vehicles all day long. He likes shopping carts and handbags.
He belongs only to her.
And last night, as per usual at tucking-in time, I asked the lil' dude what or who she needed in bed. She was too tired for much thought or selection process- she had NaNa and the usual suspects, Monkey and Gloworm. We said our goodnights.
But as I peeked in on her for a final tuck hours later, there in her bed hugged close to her chest was her stuffed dog.
Rescued from who knows where.
And found in the dark.
To back where he belongs.