Dear Bono,

You have lived with us now a little over three months, and I just can’t believe how fast time has gone by. I feel like we’ve had you forever. It’s hard to imagine what our pre-dog-owning life was like. When Peter and I first got married, we talked about how we wanted to make our home into a place where people were always welcome. And so, we had a long talk about how we would always keep our apartment clean, orderly, and homey. Those were the days…

Now you have made it your sole mission to destroy anything that might go on person’s feet (shoes, socks, slippers…) and/or anything that might be stuffed with that white fluffy material you like to pull out like guts from freshly killed prey. And you are only satisfied if the rug in the living room is littered with the remains. When we adopted you, we were told that you were bred in Kentucky for hunting, but just didn’t make the grade. If only they could see you now! (Though, we are sure glad they can’t!)

When we first brought you home, you were so scared to be here. What you didn’t know was that we were just as nervous! That first night, there was nothing we could do to make you settle down and rest. It seemed like you peed and pooped all over this apartment, and we were downright terrified. We were on our knees cleaning up after you at every turn, and you were nervously shedding fur all over the place! This happened to be only one week before our Hebrew language midterm, and I couldn’t help but liken our struggle to the ancient Israelites’–how did they manage to survive in that wilderness with all those wild animals and such a confusing language?!

You have since settled down a bit… and restored my faith in the LORD as the One who sustains all living things.

You now have a regular routine around here that keeps you in the fittest shape, both mentally and physically. Every morning, you go on a long walk around the apartment complex, and, let’s be honest, that usually happens with Peter at the helm. As you (and he) have now learned, I’m not much of a morning person. But that doesn’t deter you. You come bounding inside after that walk, ready for your breakfast and ready to play! You race around the coffee table, jump from couch to couch, make crazy-happy-dog vocal exclamations (like “aaaarnn!”), and chew on anything that falls into the aforementioned destruction-bound categories. It is often during this “morning wilding,” as Grandaddy DeWald dubbed it, that you run into walls, furniture, and human legs. Your own legs tend to move faster than your body, which results in the cartoonish and thoroughly entertaining phenomenon of you moving as fast as you can while simultaneously going nowhere.

The rest of the day, you sleep, scratch, look out the window, and follow Peter wherever he goes. The sleeping: I totally get. The scratching: I wish you’d stop (and then the cone collar could be put to rest after its many months of loyal service — though, you seem to have gotten used to it and know it’s coming when you’ve been scratching too much). The looking out the window: I appreciate because you’ve gotten us out of the apartment more often, which has resulted in more friendships for both you and us! The following Peter wherever he goes thing? Well, I have to admit– this one hurts, bud. I resent the blatantly sexist overtones of your behavior. I mean, aren’t I the pioneer, going forth into this man-dominated, glass-ceilinged world of pastoral ministry… and even my dog thinks men deserve more love?!? Where’s the justice in that?!?

Yes, you are madly in love with Peter. But, I don’t blame you. I got suckered into that one, too. He’s pretty great. I mean, no one can pick out jewelry quite like that guy.

(Bling. Bling.)

And despite your preference for male companionship (which I truly believe is not a choice, Bono!), you are quickly becoming my best bud. I love how you sneak up on squirrels, crouching low in the grass and stepping gently. I love how your ears flops around and sometimes stay flipped inside-out until you give yourself a good headshake. I love how you’ve learned that if you “sit,” then you can get anything you want in this house: a walk, a treat, a rubdown. I love all the compliments we get from strangers on what a cute beagle we have, what a sweet face he has, and what a friendly personality he has. I love how you have staked your claim to the area underneath the coffee table and how you “army crawl” across the floor to get there, legs spread out behind you and elbows inching forward. I even love how you are so stubborn, a beagle through and through. You would not take “no” for an answer! And so you won your way into our hearts, onto our couches, and eventually, onto our bed at night.

It seems too cliche to say that you’ve changed our lives, but I must. Your entrance into our lives has inaugurated a whole new phase of our marriage. There are some bad things about that, I have to admit. You are one expensive puppy, and now that we’re addicted to you, only the very best of anything will do! So, while we go weeks on end eating mac and cheese and hot dogs, you? You get expensive dog food from the Princeton Pawtisserie!

But, the overwhelming effect on us has been mind-bogglingly good. You have taught us what it is like to care for another being that is totally dependent upon us for everything. You have shown us that this kind of love can fill us with much joy. You have taught us that we have to be patient in any relationship and that trust takes time to develop. You are so very loved, my friend.

Solidarity.

Love, theklines (but especially megan)