Meet Bee Lou Lou

Miss Judy and I started discussing moving Bee Lou Lou, a homeless yearling, to the Farnival a week ago. Judy is a middle-aged seamstress that fosters dogs for ICHBA. She’s a sweet southern woman with a quick smile and a balanced approach to animal rescue. She knows how and when to say no. It so happens that she cried uncle on Bee. The yearling’s energy levels are too high for Miss Judy and her pack of elderly dogs. But we decided Bee would be perfect for our own young mutt Adriana, who has been terribly depressed since Rosie was adopted.

Adriana and I drove out to Judy’s clapboard farmhouse on Friday, passing a thriving landscape of fluctuating green foliage, more greens than I ever knew existed. Ade slept in the backseat, curled up like a noodle. The second I took a right down Judy’s gravel and asphalt country road, Ade hopped up, slapped a kiss on my cheek, as though thanking me. Sticking her whole head out the window, her small white ears flapped like flags. In my rearview mirror, she looked like she was smiling. Bee Lou Lou and Ade are walking buddies. Ade knew exactly where we were headed.

Shutting Judy’s storm door behind me, I heard Bee before my eyes adjusted to the living room’s dusky light. Bee was napping in her crate, but when she saw me she wagged her tail, slowly at first, then working up speed until it whapped against the metal bars of her cage. Mason and I have been leash training Bee for a few weeks, and every time she sees us, she acts like its Christmas and we’re the Claus’s.

I stood patiently, waiting until Bee calmed down before I motioned for her to sit, attached her lead, then signaled for her to follow. She did everything perfectly…until she hopped in the Honda and saw her fellow gangsta’ Adriana. They instantly started throwing down mosh pit-style.

It’s forty-eight hours later, and they still haven’t stopped playing