Brent Says Goodbye to Sister Bebe

Hello Folks! It’s Me Brent,

Okay, so as you probably know by now The Old Lady had been planning on placing my, perfect can do no wrong, sister Bebe with a “nice” family. She had screened many applicants and had decided on a lovely couple from the state of Washington, who seemed and I quote “just right.”
In preparation for their arrival sister Bebe was bathed in the big bathroom, tub and blow-dried followed with a manicure. I on the other hand was hosed down in the back yard, told to run around the yard to dry off and then encouraged to run on the pavement to file my nails down. I was also repeatedly instructed not to screw it up for sister Bebe by “acting out” or eating any “treat” in front of the guests. Like I could find any “treat”. The Old Lady always picks up religiously when anyone visits. So to be honest, I am always pleased to see company go home!
When the Washington couple arrived and it was love at first sight! They really liked sister Bebe and I hate to admit it but the kid was doing her best to please them. She was fetching and playing and acting like a well-bred boxer so much so that I hardly recognized her!


The Old Lady, was really pleased with how things were going when she decided it was time for sister Bebe and the Washington folks to have some private time to play and bond. She gave the couple a super glitter ball for fetch and even brought out “Mr. Brown Bear” squeaky toy to play with. I am not allowed to play with “Mr. Brown Bear” squeaky toy. The Old Lady says I’ll break him or chew him up or do some other murderous act on him. Like I would ever chew anything up!

After instructing them to take their time and enjoy getting to know one another The Old Lady left sister Bebe, the folks from Washington, the glitter ball and “Mr. Brown Bear” squeaky toy on their own, in the backyard. The Old Girl then went out in the front to play with my cousin Sonie. I had begged to go with them but The Old Lady said, “No, you can go out in the backyard after sister Bebe is done bonding.


The Old Lady doesn’t trust me in the front yard anymore, something about cars, squirrels and squashed dogs who won’t listen when spoken to. I really don’t know who or what she is talking about. I mean it was only one incident and no one was injured. Although I do believe, the driver did give The Old Lady the freeway high sign and yelled out something about "Stupid dog owner keep your dog out of the street." The neighbor next door also observed the whole exchange which thoroughly embarrassed The Old Girl. I was immediately chastised and banished to the backyard where there are no cars and only occasional squirrels, making my chances of getting squashed pretty minimal.
The curtains in the dog room were partially opened so I could see sister Bebe from my crate/jail playing with the Washington folks. She had tired of fetch and was now playing with “Mr. Brown Bear” squeaky toy. What a show off! Posing in a provocative manner with that boxer butt of hers up in the air, sassy tail wagging furiously, squeaking here there and everywhere. Tossing “Mr. Brown Bear” squeaky toy up in the air over and over again and catching it. It was actually a very impressive show of dexterity. However, it was her last move that was the real showstopper. She tossed “Mr. Brown Bear” squeaky toy high up in the air, did a complete 360-degree turn, successfully caught “Mr. Brown Bear” squeaky toy in her mouth and then promptly swallowed him. Yes I said, swallowed him! All 4inches by 3 ½ inches of brown rubber bear down her throat passed her tonsils and into her “perfect” can do no wrong boxer belly. All in one swift gulp! Talk about screwing it up Bebe!
The Washington folks, well folks, for a moment they just froze then looked at one another and in unison screamed “Noooooo!” The woman was the first to react. She ran over to Bebe and shoved her hand down the girl’s throat in hopes of grabbing a bit of “Mr. Brown Bear” squeaky toys rubber butt, but to no avail.
The man quickly gathered his wits and went running to the front yard yelling, “She’s swallowed it!” The Old Lady paused in her play with cousin Sonie and asked politely,
“Excuse me?’
“Bebe, she swallowed it.” repeated the man.
“What?” questioned The Old Girl.
“She swallowed the toy!” cried the man.
“She did what? Are you sure?” asked The Old Lady slowly seeming unable to process what was being said
“Bebe, she s-w-a-l-l-o-w-e-d the s-q-u-e-a-k-y- t-o-y.” The man, who spoke slowly and with an exaggerated enunciation, was becoming a bit agitated at this point. Not only had the dog, which he and his wife had flown over a thousand miles to meet, just ingested an intact rubber squeaky toy in one swallow, but now the owner appeared to have some kind of mental deficiency.
“She swallowed the squeaky toy!” The man’s voice now had a tone of desperation in it as if he was trying to will The Old Lady to understand him, which she finally did.“Oh my God!” screeched The Old Girl, followed by a few choice expletives, which she uses on me regularly but, at the moment seemed to stun the gentleman from Washington.
Well at that point, the two of them ran into the backyard where I could once again both hear and see them from my crate/jail. And folks, it was a sight to see!
My sister Bebe was standing there with her tail wagging in no apparent distress waiting for someone to throw the glitter ball for a frolicking game of fetch. Obviously even Bebe was aware that a game of hide the “Mr. Brown Bear” squeaky toy was not going to happen. Hey, you gotta give the girl her due credit. It had been a game of hide and seek the squeaky toy and she had won hands down! Actually, it was a moment of pride for me. My sister was a no holds barred “Mr. Brown Bear” squeaky toy extraordinaire! The kid rocked!
The humans on the other hand did not seem to share my perspective on the situation. The Old Lady looked more than a little perturbed as she dragged Bebe off to The Old Man’s veterinary office. I can only guess how that went for The Old Girl.
“You gave her what to play with? What were you thinking?” The Old Man x-rayed Bebe and sure enough, there was a brown bear in her belly. So under his direction Sis and The Old Lady headed off to see a surgery specialist. As luck would have it the surgeon was able to use a endoscope and commented that the removal looked like a breach birth as “Mr. Brown Bear” squeaky toy had gone down sister Bebe’s, now obviously large, throat head first and thus came out butt first. I doubt The Old Lady saw the humor in this considering by now, it was now two o’clock in the morning and she was more than a bit frazzled.
Approximately eight hours after the removal of “Mr. Brown Bear” from sister Bebe’s Boxer belly, the Washington folks declared their intent to take my sister Bebe home with them to be their dog. Evidently, the ingestion of a squeaky toy had not scared them off. In fact, if bonding was what The Old Lady was hoping for that fateful afternoon, it had definitely happened! The Washington couple couldn’t get enough of my sister. They walked her three or four times that day and the woman kept going on and on about how gentle Bebe had been when she had shoved her hand down the girl’s throat in an attempt to retrieve the now infamous bear. Well duh! Even I know better that to bite the hand that might soon be feeding you.
Bright and early the next morning my sister Bebe boarded an Alaskan Airlines plane and flew to her new home in Washington with her new family. The Old Lady had gone to the airport to see them off. When she came home afterwards, she was very quite and kept dabbing at her eyes. I figured it was her allergies acting up. Sometime later that afternoon when we were in the backyard playing, The Old Girl came up to me and placed her hand on my head. I thought “Oh my gosh! What did I do this time? But she just bend down and sniffed at my breath, which at that moment was “treat” free and then patted me on the head. “You’re a good boy Brent!” she said softly.
I liked her saying that to me. I also enjoyed her scratching behind my ears and blowing hot air on my cheek. Maybe this was the start of something new, or maybe not, ‘cause to be honest, I do enjoy being naughty. I love digging and eating flowers and chewing on things I’m not suppose to and chasing cats and squirrels and barking at the neighbors and eating “treat” and just about everything that ticks The Old Lady off.
I guess I’m just not a Bebe. I’m a "Just Brent"
Good Luck Bebe in your new home! You will be missed but never forgotten.
Love Brent