Once a child who couldn’t resist “borrowing” the neighborhood dogs, Marjie Alonso grew up to make her passion her profession. She spent decades as a dog trainer, behavior consultant, and executive director of animal behavior nonprofits. Over the years she shared her life with Emma, an American Eskimo, Betty and Addie, a pair of Greater Swiss Mountain Dogs, Nellie, her first beagle, and now Alice, along with countless foster dogs. A devoted parent and storyteller, Marjie writes with humor and heart about the joy, mischief, and everyday conversations that make life with dogs so deeply meaningful.

 

Marjie has just completed a memoir about taking her sons to meet their biological mothers in Paraguay and a reckoning about adoption. She writes essays for publication, and has a weekly Substack.

Dear Goddamned Beagle,

Really?

You are an adult dog. Though it’s true that your actions often belie your age, your days of puppyhood are long past. Or at least they should be.

I guessed that something was amiss from within the shower. The sound effects from my room – the banging and thumping and pattering of feet – could only be construed as “fun is happening for the beagle.” This is never a calming thought. Meanwhile I was speed-rinsing my conditioner. Let me tell you about Moroccan Oil – you don’t want that stuff on your head if there’s a fire, because if you attempt to rinse before leaving the building you’ll die trying to get it all out, and if you don’t rinse you’ll likely end up a human torch… but I digress.

I rushed through my shower, grabbed a towel and opened the door. The best you could muster upon my entrance was “Wut?”

No. No no no no no – this is not what we do with shoes. Shoes are to wear. To accent an outfit. To keep your feet dry.
closer-evidence

Ok fine. I guess they were a little strappy for me.

Thanks for the fashion edit, Goddamned dog.

Love,

Your Person

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