Nuff

The Beagle Posse marched in wearing their “Committee of the Whole” faces.  Tuppence, as usual, taking the role of spokesdog.

“We have decided on a new managing philosophy for human/Beagle relationships.” She announced.

“Oh?”  I let it lay there.

“Yes.  We have a new system called ‘Nuff’ It should be put in place starting now.”

The very tone of this makes me cautious. “And what is this system?  How does it work?”

Tommy now joins.  “It’s easy.  We get whatever we want until we say Nuff’”

“Oh, and how do you decide when to say, Nuff?”

“When we’ve had enough.”

I pondered.  “That sounds to me like a recipe for out of control beagles.”

The Posse began rolling and yipping in dog laughter.

Finally catching her breath, Tuppence wheezed out, “He said ‘beagle’ and ‘control’ in the same sentence.”

“Don’t rub it in,” I grumbled.

“Back to the item on the table,” said Tuppence.  “Can we say the system is now in place?”

“No,“  I said.  “You need to give me examples.”

Tommy held up as paw as if trying to enumerate something on a toe.  “When we get scratches and belly rubs, they don’t stop until we say Nuff.”

“And when will that be?”

“When we’ve had enough.”

“I mean, how long do you think it will take you to get enough?” I asked.

“No one knows,” replied Tuppence.  “Time is a human concept which beagles reject.”

“I guess,” added Tommy, “it could be forever.  Or until we see or think of a squirrel, or it's time for supper.”

“Yeah, Supper.” Interjected Tupp.

“Speaking of supper,” continued Tommy.  “Under the new system we keep getting food until we say Nuff.”

“Woah.  No beagle has ever said Nuff to food.”

“You’re beginning to understand the system,” said Tuppence.

I said, “So, the system is, you get anything you want; as much as you want; for as long as you want.  Is that it?”

“I see nothing wrong with that,” said Tommy.

“You know,” I pondered, “your Nuff system sounds a lot like the Trump system.”

“Tuppence replied,  “But we have better hair, and bark less than he does.”

“Sorry, Posse,” I said, “I don’t think you can count on this system in this house.”

More beagle laughter.  “We didn’t say it was a choice.”

“Well, since I do the scratching, and I buy and serve the kibbles, I think it is my choice.”

They turned to walk back to the bedroom where there was a sunny spot on the carpet.  “We’ll give you some time to get used to the idea.  We’re going to nap.”

“How long?” I asked.

“Til we’ve napped Nuff,” said Tuppence.

“Or till we hear you serve supper,” added Tommy.

“Yeah,” yawned Tuppence.  “Supper.”