As I sit at my desk, the Beagle feels the need to remind me of her presence. She scampers up to my side while chomping a squeaky toy, which she promptly drops on the floor. I pick up the rubber turkey leg and toss it into the living room. Immediately, she brings it back and drops it on the floor. I toss it back into the living room. Immediately, she brings it back and drops it on the floor. Changing it up, I toss it into the kitchen.
Immediately, she brings her food dish and drops it on the floor.
A simple, perfect gag, impeccably executed. Of all the many reasons to treasure Isabella, this may rank above all others: She makes me laugh. Not smile warmly or chuckle fondly, but full belly laughs. She's been in my life for two years this month, and the joy I feel for knowing her is present in that laughter. My life is richer, more whole, in ways I could never have imagined. No matter what nightmarish turns life may take, I know she'll be there, head tilted, tail wagging, eager to please, effortlessly sweet, eternally loved.
