Dear Goddamned Beagle,
All in all, you did a very good job of keeping it together.
The last time we hosted fourteen millennials at the Cape house you gained three pounds, nearly choked to death, and bit me. This was last June, when we discovered the little-discussed Millennial Inadequate Grip Syndrome, wherein otherwise-healthy young people drop food every few minutes. This caused a perfect storm of over-excitement, resource guarding and gluttony within you. For four days you alternated between humping the arms and necks of people sitting on the couches and floors, taking off with their pens, shoes and chargers, and stealing their food. Often the food was on the floor, dropped, so not technically stealing, but many times it was on the table where it belonged. It’s curious that a group of people so brilliant and quick are incapable of learning to push in dining room table chairs. The only reason you didn’t gain five pounds instead of three is that you dislike pasta. More than once I lifted you off the table as you spit the main course back in its serving bowl.
Millennials also look at their screens a lot. What they didn’t see, I didn’t mention.
This year, however, you impressed me with your relative calm. With the exception of one unfortunate neck-humping incident, and a string of, “look who forgot to put their shoes in the box” reminders, you stayed remarkably urbane. Provided you had your spot on the couch, your blanket, and lots and lots of treats if I was on any kind of phone call, Zoom meeting or intense discussion, you were basically chill. This was remarkable, especially as it rained hard a few of those days and so you got no walk.
Well, mostly chill. I did notice you looking a little glum once or twice. Despite 24/7 attention, snacks and entertainment and the lovely surroundings, you still seemed not quite yourself.
The car rides didn’t help. You just hate them, I know, and riding two hours each way was miserable for you. I apologize for that. But this morning, back home in our usual digs, I was pleased to see you starting to get back to your normal state of comfort.
It’s good you can finally relax, Beagle.
Thank you. You and The Beagle light up my life in some strange way…