The Adorable Basket

It was the most accusing Beagle tone I’d heard since the last time I was five minutes late with the Posse’s supper.

“You haven’t announced what basket we’re in.”  Snarled Tuppence.

I was momentarily confused. (my usual)  “What baskets are we talking about?  Why do you need a basket?”

“You humans,” said Tommy, “are busy going around saying what people are in what basket, and we need you to announce what basket beagles are in.”

The latest news cycle, the presidential campaign, all came rushing back to me then.  “Oh.  OK, I guess I’d put you in the Eat and Sleep basket.”

“BUZZZZZZTTTT!!!” shouted Tommy.  “Wrong.”

“We’re in the Adorable Basket, “explained Tuppence.

“The Adorable Basket? Hmmmmmm.”

“Well,” she continued, in THAT tone, “we certainly aren’t deplorable, so we go in the Adorable.----HEY, I made a rhyme.”

“I’ve made worse,” I admitted.  “But, just what do you think makes beagles eligible for the Adorable Basket?”

“We just ARE,” said Tuppence.

“You just are?”

Going kind of Cosmic, Tuppence said, “Beagles ARE.  By our very nature, and our state of being, we sort into the Adorable Basket.”

Tommy felt inclined to add, “We are adorable because we BE.  We just BE.  It’s right there in our name.  BE-gles.”  (Evidently spelling doesn’t count in beagle metaphysics.)

Tuppence picked up the thread.  “We try to teach that to you humans.  You could live happier if you were more about being and less about doing.  After all, you aren’t called ‘Human Doings.”

“Tupp,” I said, “I think you’re taking this blog in a far too fantastical direction there.  No one is going to believe beagles think that deeply.”

“Oh,” she said, “we didn’t think it.  We read it somewhere.”

“And that’s believable?” I asked.  “Dogs reading?”

The Posse ignored me.

“OK,” I said, to get the discussion back on track,  “You say you just BE.  But when you’re digging for chipmunks, chasing field mice, or barking madly up the tree at squirrels, you are certainly DOING.”

“No,” sighed Tommy.  “We’re BE-ing BE-gles.  Chasing rodents is how we BE.”

Too circular for me.  I said, “So, are all dogs in the Adorable Basket, or just beagles?”

“Most dogs,” said Tuppence.  “All beagles.”

“How democratic of you,” I said.  “What about McDuff next door.”

“Adorable.”

“Adorable.”

“And your online friends Portia and Cleopatra?”

Two paws up for Adorable.

“How about your Great Dane cousins out on the ranch in Nebraska?”

Tuppy got the explanation look in her eye.  “Great Danes are a special case.  They are in the Adorable Basket for about the first twelve to sixteen weeks of their life.  Then they move right on into the HOLY MOLY Basket.”

“So, you beagles put any kind of dog in your Adorable Basket.  You don’t sort by size, color, breed, flea status, or anything like that?”

“Of course we don’t,” said Tuppence.  “Sorting like that would be deplorable.”