The enigma of the Beagle

From the time I started attending First Baptist church in 1998 to about 2003, our pastor there was Pastor Lee. Pastor Lee had many fine qualities: he was devoted to God, an excellent teacher, a top-notch preacher, and a great friend. He had previous teaching experience at the college level, and had traveled quite extensively. He was, in other words, a wise man. There was something about him though, at the time, that I never quite understood. He owned beagles. His family had one beagle (who later met an untimely death) who was then replaced with another beagle. The subject of these dogs would occasionally come up during a sermon, and frequently in conversations. "Our beagle did the cutest thing...." or "Our beagle learned this fabulous new trick..." etc, etc, ad nauseum. I didn't get it. We had owned a dog when I was growing up. I considered myself to be dog lover, even. While, at the time, I didn't actually own a dog, I considered it to be something in my future, similar to picturing myself having kids one day. What is such a big deal about a beagle?
Then, the day came when I, too, officially became a beagle owner. I remember it: December 23, 2006. I worked a 12 hour shift at the hospital and came home to spend the evening with Russ. We had decided to open our Christmas gifts that evening, since we knew the next couple of days would be very busy with family. For Russ, I had carefully selected a new, sturdy pair of work boots for him to wear on the job, as well as a DVD called We Built This City: New York for the city planner in him that he had been seriously hinting about. He oohed and ahhed over his gifts, seemingly very pleased. I couldn't wait to open mine. He handed me a small box that I quickly tore open to find....a hand mixer for the kitchen. Wow. Yes, I had said that I wanted one, but seriously? Is this what we had come to, only married for a little over two years and I was already receiving appliances as a gift?
Oh, wait, he said. There is one more gift downstairs. He ran down and came up with a large Christmas tote. When I opened it, inside was Owen: a furry thing who was all of six weeks staring back at me. I couldn't believe it! A dog? I'm getting a dog? I know I had mentioned it in the past, but, he remembered!
But, I didn't just get a dog. I got a beagle. I realize now that there is a distinct difference. Now, I know for all lab owners or mutt lovers, their dog is actually smarter, better personality, whatever you come up with. To each his own. (I actually do love almost all kinds of dogs---it's the cats I can't tolerate). But let me just give a plug for beagles and you can place me in the same category with Pastor Lee. A beagle is a smart dog. I know this. I can never say that Owen is dumb, because I know he is not. He gets things, and he remembers. It's just that he is so willful, he doesn't always do what he is supposed to. Maybe that's the puppy in him. Maybe not. He is gentle with our 2 year old niece and even gentle with certain small stuffed animals because he knows it is necessary. He can also play rough and tumble with the best of dogs. He's a hound whose nose never stops and he can let out a howl that has a hang time of ten seconds. He's fast. He's cute. And on days like today when I am roaming the house doing various cleaning tasks, he stays at my side. He's a great companion.
Perhaps I am only feeling sentimental right now, since Owen is currently staying with my parents while we go out of town. It's only been an hour and I miss him. I can't wait until we pick him up and bring him home again. He's our beagle. And some days, when I feel like this adoption thing can't get any worse and there will never be a child, sometimes, it does feel like he is enough. And right now, he is.