That’s not mud. It’s nature!

Beaumont:  So let me get this straight. I have to stay here, locked up in the laundry room because you took me to the park and now you think I’m all wet and dirty.

Me:  Well. You are.

Beau:  I thought you revere nature.

Me:  I do.

Beau:  But you don’t want it in the house?

Me:  I don’t want the mud and dirt in the house.

Beau:  Oh. So some things of nature are allowed in and others aren’t?

Me:  Honestly Beau. What is the point of this conversation?

Beau:  I’m just trying to point out the dichotomy of your position.

Me:  That’s a mighty big word Beau. Dichotomy.

Beau:  Watching you I’ve learned to understand it.

Me:   What is that supposed to mean?

Beau:  Exactly what it says. you are a vessel of contradictions.

Me:  Seriously?

Beau:  Yes. Seriously Louise. Look at the reason you’ve locked me up in the laundry room. You write about nature and walking with wonder and awe with its beauty and then, when I bring some of that wonder and awe into the house, you deem it dirty and lock me away until nature’s beauty is more… presentable to you.

Me:  That’s not about me being a.. how did you say it… a vessel of contradictions. It’s just about me being practical. You’re dirty. I don’t want the dirt in the house.

Beau:  Can you not see the contradiction?

Me:  I can see the dirt.

Beau:  Yeah well. It’s my nature to get dirty when I’m running in the rain and the grass and the mud puddles on the trail. This is my nature and I am one with nature.

Me:  (sigh)  There’s no way I can win this one is there?

Beau:  It’s probably best if you say “Dawgcle” now.

Me:  It’s ‘Uncle’ Beau.

Beau:  I stand true to my nature. I’m a Dawg. I am one with nature. You are losing this argument. You need to capitulate to your dog and his nature. Say Dawgcle. Go on. Say it.

Me:  Do I have to?

Beau:  Are you willing to let my beautiful nature and all its messy, dirty parts come into the house?

Me:  (sigh)   Once you’re dry…

Beau:  You can’t compromise on loving nature Louise. It’s an all or nothing equation. Nature is all things. Love it all, or… admit defeat.

Me:  Dang. There really isn’t any way to win this is there?

Beau:  Well, given your propensity to compromise your principles around loving nature and all its many facets, I’d say you’re doing a mighty fine job of livin’ on that river you know so well.

Me:  What? How did the Bow River get into this conversation?

Beau:  It’s not the Bow, Louise. It’s de Nile. The river you flow within with great frequency.

Me:  Not true Beau!

Beau:  Really? Tell me again why I can’t come in the house.

Me:  Oh dear. Why do you always win?

Beau:  Maybe because you don’t know when to stop when you’re ahead.

Me:  Am I ever ahead with you?

Beau:  Good point. Now… is there something you need to say so we can end this conversation?

Me:  (sighing)  (in a very, very quiet voice) Dawgcle.

Beau:  Well done Louise! See that wasn’t so hard. (and he lays down on the towel in the laundry room, a smile on his hairy face)  Wake me up when I’m dry. I need a nap.

Me:  What? You don’t want out?

Beau:  I’m quite comfortable here. Thank you.

Me:  Grrrrrrr…

Sigh. And so, once again, Beaumont makes his point and I am left scratching my head wondering how on earth does he do it?

But seriously. What dog uses the word ‘Dichotomy’ as if he actually knows what it means? I mean. Really? I’m going to have to lock up my laptop at night. I think he’s been searching Webster’s Online Dictionary while I sleep!