She has chased Leah (Jacob and Jenna's dog) a few times. Leah is yippy and Bea seems to chase her as if to say "alright bitch, you want to play? Lets play." It's a hilarious time to watch a 42-year-old run around with a 10-year-old and play as if they're colleagues. I think there was a scene like that in "Of Mice and Men."
Anyway, we took Bea to the dog park Monday, and, well, she played. A LOT. There were a few dogs that were rolling around and chasing each other and generally being dogs. They were not aggressive and their owners seemed to be people who actually paid attention. So we let Bea in on the fray, and she took to it very well.
Bea was a lot smaller than the other dogs, so watching her try to poke her head in was a perfect kind of hilarious. There were a lot of moments where she was the freshman on the football team just trying to be noticed. Though she was faster then the other dogs - amazing considering her general philosophy on life is "slow and steady wins the race." I'm still trying to catch her sprint on video. By the time I fire up the camera, Bea has already stopped running. There's some mystical magic to her run that prevents it from being filmed.
Bea Arthur likes to watch.
If her park racing wasn't enough, last night we hung out with Jacob, Jenna, and Leah. And while Bea kept up her stoic Abbott to Leah's zany Costello (or her Dorothy Zbornak to Leah's Rose Nylund), she did do one amazing thing.
Leah has a squirrel toy just like Bea's, except it's half the size. And Bea went right for it. She wasn't playing with a ball like Leah was, or doing much of anything else. But at least she found a toy and played with it for a minute. She's still only bit her own squirrel a few times. So anything she does is a positive sign.
Take that, Mini Hank.
In a related story, Bea's squirrel is now named Hank Poseidon. Sara told me she wouldn't let me name it Henry because she dated a Henry, so she wanted to name it something ridiculous, like Poseidon. We compromised and named it Hank Poseidon, which I'm convinced sounds like a 1940s detective.
"Hank Poseidon, Squirrel Detective. And I'll find your nuts."