Addie Learns to Begg

By Giggles Anderson

Beggar's Delight was a the most perfect gift anyone could get.
The size of a pink bowling ball when he slept
with his head resting on his tail.

The best friend a girl could have.

Like a doll, but better.
Alive.
After school, he would run straight into her arms,
heart beating like afternoon rain on a zinc roof.
Begg liked to breathe in her face and lick her ears.

Begg treated Addie's head like it was a giant ice cream cone.
Addie treated Begg as if he were a giant cloud:
soft and fluffy.

The cur wiggled like an earthworm,
and after a heavy rain,
both were equally as muddy.

As a pup, Begg would race Addie to the kitchen.
Begg beat her every time.

Eventually Addie named Begg after
the most beautiful horse in her world--
a cocoa-toned thoroughbred swaddled
in a regal purple and green outfit.

Notwithstanding the filly's fifth-place standing
at the Kentucky Derby, Addie thought the horse
a champion.

Mother did not see it that way.

As far as She was concerned, thoroughbred was a term
reserved for winners.

A well-bred loser indicated a problem in the care.
The feeding. The grooming.

Perhaps a mutation in the parentage.

Such problems were to be appropriately addressed.
Not admired.

And if at all possible, any problem associated with parentage
was to be promptly and unceremoniously buried.

Forever forgotten.

"That dog will fare better if you name him after a winner,"
Mother announced to Her daughter, who appeared not
to be paying Her any mind.

Those twelve ominous words hung in the air
like mistletoe at a Christmas party.
Everyone expects to see it.
Smart folk walk to avoid it.

Begg and Addie went everywhere together.
But not really.

Together they traveled to the park, the zoo,
last summer's trip to Kalamazoo,
the grocery store, the Post Office.

To heaven and back again.

Addie went to school for hours without her little lamb.
And Begg, out of pure spite, of course,
wandered over to the neighbor's house.

With increasing regularity.

And every morning,
first thing,
before any hair brushing
or face washing,
Addie would walk to the middle of the street
carrying a Beggless leash, and
Gina would walk to the middle of the street
carrying a handful of Begg.

Their trade agreement would have made Nixon proud.

The morning custody exchange both embarrassed
and annoyed Mother, who ordinarily reveled
in the pomp and circumstance of tradition.

"What a thing! Here I am trying to raise
a young woman who can survive, in the world."

On Her own.

And Her rambunctious daughter seemed happy to share her dog
with the mongrel next door...

"There will be no more of this routine Begging on my watch,"
Mother muttered to the lint on Her blouse as she brushed it away.