Fanny

I had just had my babies and was then snatched away from certain death at the hands of the animal warden when I found myself in a large home with lots of kids and dogs. A really nice lady took me in and began to search for someone who would like to take me home forever. I wouldn't have minded staying there, but I understood this was just a stop on my tumultuous journey. Then after only a couple of days, the nice lady called a neighbor to come and meet me. She came with her kids, and I took one look at her, and knew. She was mine. My new mom, and these kids were mine. She snapped a leash on me and we walked to my new house.

It was great! There were couches and beds and chairs- and they were all mine! There was food in my bowl every morning and evening, but better yet, the kids dropped a lot of food on the floor that I dutifully picked up.

Thus began my career as a nanny and comforter, a guard dog and floor cleaner. Goodness, these folks sure needed me and I have no idea how they got along without me. How on earth did mom stay warm before I started sleeping in her bed, under the covers?

When someone was sick, I got into bed with them. When someone was crying, I snuggled them. When mom sat down to nurse the baby, I was there to help- I had experience, after all, and I figured she needed my moral support.

The piano teacher needed me to sit in his lap while he taught the kids. The lessons sure went better when I was there.

Other dogs came and went, and I made sure they knew the rules and who was in charge (me, of course). Why, one dog actually thought we slept on the floor! I straightened that silly boy out in no time, and he slept in a bed with one of the kids after that.

And the parties! Oh, they were heaven. As soon as the table was empty of people, I would gladly help clear all the food that was left. Then ladies would scream, men would roar in laughter, and mom would get red with embarrassment. Honestly, it was no big deal- I was just trying to help. But I didn't mind that they carried on so.

One of my duties was to make sure the gate to the yard was latched, which it often was not. I then had to venture out to the front yard and across the street. How else to make sure all was well in the neighborhood? But I always went back the way I came and asked to be let in through the back door. I don't think mom would have ever caught on but the neighbors ratted me out.

One year, I helped the 3 year old cull the candy canes off the Christmas tree. She was also kind enough to hand me food off the pantry shelves and we would share a snack- just us. We never told mom.

It made me nervous when mom left, and I hated when the family went on vacation. I usually let them know how I felt about it when they got back.

So, after a while, I had this family in ship shape! Years went by, and my life was one of peace and quiet, of regularity and dependability. I was loved. How could they not love me, a Beagle?

My favorite spot was on mom's side of the bed, where I would while away the hours, sleeping and smelling her scent.

But the years caught up with me and I grew old. I couldn't do all the things I liked to do or should do, but I did my best to take care of my family when needed. It grew difficult to climb the stairs and get onto mom's bed. Dad would take me for walks, but it was hard to keep up the pace, though I tried. Snuggling my folks, once my favorite pastime, became uncomfortable and sometimes painful, although I tried not to let on for fear of hurting their feelings. Breathing was hard and I had accidents in the house too often. Life was not as enjoyable as it once was, but I would not have wanted to be anywhere else but with my family.

But the other day, it all came crashing down. Bleeding from my mouth uncontrollably and feeling the worst I'd ever felt, I knew things were not good. Mom knew it too. I looked at her, through the glass door, blood pooling around me, watching her talk on the phone to dad. She came out to gently wipe away the blood off of me, and we looked into each other's eyes. We knew.

Dad came home and put me in the car and he and mom took off on a longinsh car ride. I never liked car rides, so I tried to listen to the sound of their voices as they talked. I always loved hearing them talk. We got to a really nice place I had never seen before and a really nice doctor looked me over. But I knew what she was going to find. I went back to hang out with mom and dad, and I decided I would snuggle them one last time- even though it hurt, and I had a hard time breathing in that position. They were crying and I thought they could use some comfort. But most of all, I knew my suffering and trying to hold it all together were at an end. And I was OK with that.

We walked into another room and they put me on a soft blanket and mom and dad held me and told me over and over what a good dog I was and how everything was going to be OK. The doctor was talking to me and I got really sleepy and laid my weary head on mom.

And I could smell her scent. And I was dreaming of being on her bed again. What a great life.