Beau and Waiting for Godot.

Me: Beaumont. What are you doing?

Beau: Waiting for Uncle Jim.

Me: It’s noon Beau. Dinner’s at 6.

Beau: I’m a dawg. Time is inconsequential.

Me: In that case, you’re in for a long wait.

Beau: Like Vladimir and Estragon, I wait.

Me: Ummm…. Beau. They were characters in a play. You’re here in real life.

Beau: You of all people Louise, should know life is a stage.

Me: Oh dawg! Are you going to quote Shakespeare now? Please don’t.

Beau: Would you prefer I quote from Waiting for Godawgt?

Me: It’s Waiting for Godot, Beau.

Beau: Not if you’re a dawg.

Me: Can we please just have a normal conversation?

Beau: Louise. You’re having a conversation with a dawg. What’s normal about that?

Me: Oh. Right. Well… Can we at last move past whatever stage this is?

Beau: I know you don’t want me to but… remember… inconsequential? To quote the Bard, “all the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.” Which, in case you didn’t know, which given you’re a hooman I figure you don’t, is why you hoomans are seven times per year older than we fabulous canines. We command more presence per stage. It’s just the way the world works.

Me: Oh. Really. I don’t think that’s what Jaques meant when he said that.

Beau: This isn’t As You Like It, by Louise. It’s Shakespeare’s As You Like It. And I like to sit here waiting for Uncle Jim and his treat bag.

Me: Beau. It’s noon and Uncle Jim won’t be here until six. You can’t sit there all afternoon. anyway, I have a nice surprise for you. Wilma’s coming with her hoomans to take you to the park!

Beau: Dare I say it? That doth not warrant an exclamation mark! And dawggone it! Does that mean she’s also coming for dinner?

Me: Well… yes.

Beau: Why?

Me: Because she’s your cousin and she likes to visit?

Beau: Are you going to ask what I like?

Me: Whether I ask or not I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.

Beau: Finally you’re getting wise in your old age Louise.

Me: Beau…. not the age thing ok?

Beau: Hmmm… Let’s see… Now that you’re in Shakespeare’s sixth, or is it seventh stage of life…

Me: Beau!

Beau: Fine. I promise not to quote Shakespeare nor Beckett if you immediately open the treat drawer and give me lots.

Me: Oh. I get it. You’re not really sitting watching for Uncle Jim yet. You just wanted me to open the treat drawer!

Beau: Well that took you a while to figure out now didn’t it? See! It is as Shakespeare wrote! You are in the seventh stage… “Last scene of all / That ends this strange eventful history / Is second childishness and mere oblivion / Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.”

Sigh. I’d ask again if we could have a normal conversation, but I already know the answer… Life with Beau means accepting… there is no normal.