HypnotEYES Me!

We are a proud breed best known for our floppy ears and the fact that we are stubbornly ruled by our nose. But to get what we want, all beagles turn to our secret weapon: our eyes. Blessed by nature with the roundest, most innocent and melancholy eyes, nobody can say NO whenever we unleash the power of the... beagle stare!   

In my casa, the beagle stare is 100% foolproof when used on Dad. However, I've been very suspicious of mom lately, and have a sneaky feeling that she knows just how hypnotic and powerful my stare can be. In fact, I have proof of her continually distracting me from my task, foiling my everyday attempts to:

1) Have Dad feed and walk me as soon as he goes home after a long day of work, and before he eats his   dinner.

And,

2) Convince Dad to share some (if not all) of his dinner with me, specially if he's having pork chops and/or ham.

If you don't believe me, see for yourself:

Exhibit A.  I'm working it... Dad's pretending he doesn't see me, but I know he does! "I've been home alone all day, and my need to be walked is greater than your need to eat dinner....."

Exhibit B.  "Look into my eyes..." 
Dad is wavering, my wide open eyes convincing him that my needs should be served first.... victory is near.... am almost there!

Exhibit C.  Foiled by Mom, who distracted me by holding up a leg of ham!

Exhibit D. Again attempting to hypnotize Dad, strategically positioning myself so that he sees me every time he lifts his fork. "Am a good, obedient beagle who never shreds tissue, hungry and totally deserving of your pork chop..." *flash* *click*... what was that? Distracted again by mom's camera!

Is Mom sabotaging me, or am I just being paranoid?

Insanity or Eternal Optimism?

As I read this quote from Albert Einstein, one of the world's greatest minds, my humans come to mind:

"Insanity is doing the same things over and over again, yet expecting different results each time."

They certainly do some things over and over again, and yes, expect me and my nose to react differently each time.

For example. Bathroom doors are perennially left open in the mornings. Yet again and again, they expect me to turn up my nose and not succumb to the temptation of such enticing smells, expressing shocked surprise at the shredded pile of cotton and tissue that never fails to greet them once they return from work. 

Or. The unrealistic expectation of carpets left pristine when brightly coloured, strong-scented neon magic markers and lipsticks are continually left within reach of my nose and paw!    Oh, the memory of my humans moaning as I greeted them at the door with my face stained a bright electric blue on one side and red on the other; then shrieking as they saw the fate of their once pristine carpet. Really... what did they expect? If anything, I certainly got the raw end of the deal. My face (and the carpet) was vigorously Mr.Clean Magic-Erasered until all telltale stains disappeared. Yet, the only valuable life lesson they seem to have learned? That Mr. Clean Magic Eraser works not only on walls and counter tops, but on carpets AND dogs too. Sigh.

On paper, insanity might be the most logical diagnosis. However, as I am almost sure both of them are of sound mind, there's only one other alternative explanation. That when it comes to their 4-legged hounds, humans are eternally optimistic. Believing that it simply takes time and repetition until, just like little children, we have that eureka moment and "learn our lesson". After all, haven't our working dog cousins, the Shepherds, Border Collies and Retrievers, proven this to be true?

So, are they guilty by reason of insanity or eternal optimism? You be the judge. In the mean-time, excuse me as my hound nose is detecting an open bathroom door that needs my immediate attention.

My 9th Birthday Last Year

I turned 9 last July, and my pack celebrated my adulthood with the works: noodles for long life, carrot cake in honour of my favourite snack, calamari in honour of my favourite stuffed toy and cherries because... well, just because it was in season. I howled through-out, energetically running round and round the living room. Mom & Dad thought it was because I was singing along as they sang "Happy Birthday", but it was actually my way of protesting the indignity of having to only "sniff" my birthday feast as my humans ate it!

However, I certainly am mature enough to set this aside and spend a little time reflecting. Time really flies- I was barely 2 when we moved here, and now I've practically spent majority of my life as a "Canadian" canine. As my human aunt would always ask (and not in jest, mind you),"does Beans speak fluent Canadian now?" Well, I guess so, but truth be told, I still have trouble converting my howling "aroos" to those pesky "eh's". I've been with my peops all these years, through 5 moves and 3 countries in the last 9 years, providing comfort and security in every new chapter of their lives. And for that alone, don't you think my humans should have had the decency to at least give me a crumb of my own birthday cake? Arooooooo,eh?