Joan Holloway, here.
Apparently this task of chronicling the youngest human's emotional and cognitive journey renders Beta unable to do more during her off-time than moon around with a hot rice sock on her head, and I must take care of Knitters-Knitters.
Pam Spaniel and I are now great friends.
We play a new game where I grab her collar with my teeth and yank as hard as I can, while she stands motionless and rolls her eyes Heavenward. Finally she barks once, and I run and hide.
We have another game where we try to see who can get the closest to Alpha when he comes home and sits on the couch in the evening. Whoever can get her tongue directly into his mouth wins.
Mostly, we exclaim to each other about the absurdities of our humans. Like when Beta goes outside to photograph a knitting project and, inexplicably, does not take us with her.
Beta is knitting an afghan for Eldest Child. She calls this chevron-patterned afghan a "stash-busting" project.
However, I have seen her collection of Noro Silk Garden. "Stash-Busting would imply that upon completion of this afghan, Beta would have noticeably less Noro than she did before. Anyone with eyes can see that she will have slightly less Noro than she had previously, and that it will be a difference in amount that could not be discerned without a postal scale. I will not waste my time estimating the percentage this project will use, but the word "negligible" comes to mind.
Beta and Alpha have also just now figured out that encouraging their eldest child to apply to colleges out of state means that she will, next year, live out of state. And now Beta is mooning around about that, getting irritatingly sentimental about the passage of time. Here we see a recent horticulture project of Eldest:
And accompanying diagram:
Common sense would suggest that since they do not enjoy the prospect of missing their Eldest child, they should never have allowed her to learn to read and write: two things which apparently, humans must do before attending college. Being personally responsible for this child's ability to read and write, I can only draw the conclusion that Beta is feeble-minded about her own best interests.
Humans, my Beta especially, do two things that I find incomprehensible: they dwell on sad things that have already happened, and then they worry about things that have not yet happened but which might happen. It's this cognitive flaw that makes it essential that I am Beta's dog and she is my preferred human.
Between you, me, and the fence post, she's more human than Pam can handle.
This bias on my part appears to make Beta quite happy.
You may wonder about my wisdom, which exceeds that of Pam many other beings, and how I seem to have a level of understanding not usually seen in young pups.
It's because of that bit of hair that hangs in my eyes: it gives me perspective.