Heather Anne

For first 48 hours after Scout's heart treatments, she is not supposed to have any physical activity at all. Now, I don't know how much you know about Beagles, but basically that little task is equal to solving a problem like Maria: how do you catch a cloud and pin it down? how do you make her stay, and listen to all you say? how do you keep a wave upon the sand?

It was so impossible this time--because Scout was SO HAPPY to be home and Margaret was SO HAPPY to have her home--that Amy and I had to give Scout these little tranquilizers called doggie downers to keep her calm.

Margaret's favorite game is Chase Scout Round and Round the Living Room Chair Until They Both Fall Over With Dizzy, and she couldn't figure out why Scout wasn't interested in playing when she came home from the vet. Margaret tried nudging Scout with her nose; she tried bringing mouthfuls of her own food from the kitchen and dropping them on the couch for Scout; she even tried squeaking Scout's favorite blue ball in her face. Scout would wake up just long enough to see that Margaret was making a practical Levitical Offering, before her eyes got too heavy and she fell back asleep.

We had her home for less than a week when we got a call from the vet with the latest test results. Scout was scheduled for three more treatments lasting through November, but her body has been so receptive to the medication that she isn't going to have to have any more treatments at all! Two more weeks of minimal exercise and then we can begin running her around like the Beagle she was built to be! She'll have one final check up in December, but she is practically as good as new.

The first day Scout lived with us, I told Amy that she was the worst behaved animal I had ever seen in my entire life. And I wasn't comparing her with incomparable Margaret, either. I just meant that in the history of dogs and cats and hyenas even, Scout was terrible; she didn't have any training at all. Amy said Scout wasn't terrible, that it wasn't even training she lacked. Scout, Amy said, just needed some full-on love. That's not a problem here; we're bursting with it. I just wondered if Scout could love us.

The dog books all said the same thing: You'll know your dog has fallen for you when she begins staring at your adoringly.

Yesterday Scout sat on a stool and watched me play Guitar Hero for two solid hours. Every time I finished a song I would look down at her, and she would meet my eyes with her big, brown ones, like, "97% on 'Cherub Rock'! That's the best guitar playing I ever saw!" Every night she wakes up a few times to make sure she's still touching me. She picks up her little head, army crawls over to wherever I've moved, gazes at me for a moment, tucks herself in, and falls back asleep.