The King's Ears

It is indeed a proud moment for beaglekind (anybody got a tissue?).

This morning, I awoke to an e-mail from a fellow dog-lover alerting me to the fact that a beagle, Miss P,  had won the Westmintser Dog Show. A beagle!

Although my beloved beagle Sparky has been gone nearly five years, the fifteen years I had him were enough to convince me that I could never love another breed like I do a beagle. There's a reason Charles Schulz made Snoopy a beagle.

It's not just their ceaseless quest for food (a trait I can relate to) or their reliably sunny personalities (I aspire to the same), it's that face, those ears, that upright tail. In one of the photos of Miss P, her ears are flared back in that adorable way that says, "I'm a beagle and I'm on the move!"

And yet, the article had said that the crowd at Westminster had let out a collective audible gasp when Miss P won. No one expects a lowly beagle to take top prize apparently. Except beagle lovers.

In related news, as I was coming back from my walk today through Carver, I spotted a guy atop a snowy hill lowering himself down on to an orange saucer. Cradled in his arm was his little one while a woman stood at the base of the hill, camera at the ready.

As they started to sled down the hill, I heard a squeal of delight from the little one. When they got to the bottom, he unfolded his arms and a little beagle puppy scampered out.

I was across the slushy, snow-covered street in seconds to meet the 3-month old cutie pie who'd just had his first sled ride. I'd gotten Sparky when he was 9 months old, so I'd never known him this petite.

Figuring they'd be of the same opinion as me about Westminster, I commented about it, saying how pleasantly surprised I was that a beagle won.

"Come on, that was a good looking dog!" he said in a tone that said he was clearly stating the obvious, although nothing I didn't already know.

Even Shakespeare knew. She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that adores me.

Interestingly enough, the only person in my entire Facebook feed who posted anything about the dog show is a favorite server and all around handsome man who, yes, has a charming beagle I've met several times. He gets it.

Beagle lovers are probably the only ones not surprised at Miss P's victory. Personally, I feel certain Sparky would have approved.

Take on Me (and the Heat)

"So glad it's summer, but damn! It's hot up here," drummer Lance Koehler told the crowd at the Camel tonight, not that it was news to anyone in the crowded, overheated room. There were so many sweaty bodies jammed in there tonight, but poor Lance was trapped on a three-sided stage behind eight other musicians, all blowing hard, so I have to assume that it was even worse for him than the rest of us. And, let me tell you, the rest of us were hot.

But then that's the way the No BS Brass band rolls and that's why they've got the devoted following that they do. Walking in to a nearly full room, Reggie (Can't Stop, Won't Stop) Pace waved hello and I could tell he was already warm and they hadn't played a note yet. I'd thrown a hoodie over my summer dress just in case, and had to peel that off within minutes. Sadly, the band didn't have much to peel.

From original material to raucous covers, No BS worked the crowd like the pros that they are. "Here's a song that you might have heard, but not by us...from 1989!" introduced their cover of Aha's "Take on Me" and whipped the crowd into a frenzy despite many of them having been in potty pants when the song came out. When Reggie commanded, "dance contest!" from the stage, people did as instructed and there was much flailing.

Early on, I heard a girl behind me tell her companion that she didn't recognize a single person in the crowd and I had just been thinking the same thing. I've been to plenty of No BS shows, but tonight's crowd wasn't familiar at all. I saw a guy I'd met at Garnett's and guitarist Scott Burton from Glows in the Dark and that was really it besides Lance and Reggie. Very strange.

I'd come to hear brass from a late happy hour at Garnett's with a very good friend. She was a fan of the beagle and kindly offered her empathy on my loss, mentioning how fortunate it had been that I'd lost him now instead of a year ago when everything else in my life was falling apart. She was right about that; no question that that would have been the straw that broke this camel's back. It was bad enough now.

But we also discussed happier topics like sex and plunging into commitment, even as we devoured a slice of savory cheesecake. When we'd last happy houred at Garnett's on a Friday, they were out of this appetizer and tonight we scored the very last piece. It was a roasted red pepper and feta cheesecake, served with toasted baguette slices and it was divine.

Curt had recommended it as his personal favorite and it wasn't hard to taste why. We followed that with an excellent Cobb salad dressed with a French vinaigrette; the ratio of avocado, bacon and Gorgonzola was perfect, but then Mac is so good at what he does. We have a mutual admiration society, Mac and me.

And because we'd have been fools to leave without having dessert, we had dessert. Very good friend had never experienced the wonder of their chocolate pecan pie warm and oozing with richness, so we addressed that; even the shortbread crust was worthy of note to her. Me, I take it for granted, but then I've enjoyed far too many slices of that pie.

It was a good thing I'd laid down a base with such a pleasant meal before going to the Camel because given the extreme heat and airlessness, a girl with an empty stomach might have felt like fainting before long. And I'm not sure my night would have been as complete without the memory of the trickle of sweat dripping down my back as No BS rocked "Take on Me."

And by all means, take me on.

The Beagle Has Ended

My long-time companion (more than fourteen years) and charming wingman has left J-Ward for the last time.

This is the beagle who accompanied me throughout the 'hood, winning us both friends and admirers.

He's also the one who befriended every single person I ever invited to my apartment.

At the beach, one of his favorite places on earth, he would sleep in the room with my various guests, disarming them to the point that when I finally got up the two of them had already been out for a walk while I snoozed.

His health had been steadily deteriorating since March last year and in the past six months or so, he was having trouble seeing and hearing.

He's always loved snow, but the three big storms we had this year were tough for him,

We still walked, but he was no longer able to frolic like he used to.

But it was really the last couple of months that told me what I needed to know.

He no longer wanted to go for walks and for a dog who liked nothing better, I knew he had to be feeling his age.

Even so, it's an unbearably difficult decision to make to say "It's time."

So the beagle who loved Jackson Ward as much as I do will be absent from its brick-lined sidewalks and Abner Clay Park.

His devotion to me was a thing of beauty especially considering how allergic I am to dogs.

Over the past year and all its difficulties, he had become my constant companion, something I badly needed.

My only consolation is knowing that I won't be the only person who notices the absence of the charming J-Ward beagle.

Farewell, my lifesaver.