This is Belle.
We’ve had Belle for years now. She’s a big ole dog, but a happy dog, and she thinks she’s a lap dog, and quite honestly, she makes me laugh. A lot. She’s a chocolate retriever with the mentality of an 18 month old child.
Belle, like most of our dogs (and also Bryan), is obsessed with lights. The movement of light is a mystery to her. A mystery that must be run down and destroyed. She spends many an hour chasing after a laser, of which there is no good picture because it is just a giant blur of chocolate. Beau will show you how, though, because he is our Obedient Dog.
But it’s not just lasers that occupy Belle. Any sort of reflection is a game to her. Our recessed lights in the kitchen may catch the angle of a butter knife just so to throw a pattern on the ceiling and she goes NUTS. All day. Any light. (The rest of our dogs are only interested in the game of laser tag; they scoff at Belle.)
Bryan and I sat in the living room one really sunny weekend as Belle hovered near a floor-to-ceiling window, which bathed her in sunlight. We watched her chase the reflection of her own dogtag around in circles, growling and panting and slobber and fur.
“Stupid dog,” we said, laughing.
Then we watched her some more.
“When was the last time you were ever that happy,” I asked, “about anything?” And we both stared off silently.
Belle’s figured it all out. Keep it simple, stupid.