Hey! I’m Honey … but mostly known as Honey Beeeeee. You kind of have to say it like that — it’s part of the experience.
I am, without question, the happiest and luckiest pup on the planet. In my beginnings, I had a few warm-up rounds of homes before I landed with my person. Not mistakes — plot development. I was meant to be with her. My predecessors crossed the Rainbow Bridge within weeks of each other, leaving her with a heavy heart and a lot of love to give. So the universe said, “Hang on … we’ve got a good one coming.” But first, I had to make my way from James Island.
My brother Moose and I were adopted together, but after a few months, I was sent to live with Grandma on the Isle of Palms, very close to Mom. While with Grandma, she got the idea of “training” — rude — and I ended up meeting my mom. A few moments later, Grandma asked Mom to “foster me” for a few days. “A few days” — cute. Mom said yes, reluctantly, but Grandma knew. I knew. The universe definitely knew. Then boom — I’m in. Foster fail. Forever home.
I got my person, and that’s why I smile all the time. Full face, tongue out, eyes sparkling — you cannot look at me and stay in a bad mood. Ask the people we pass when we’re on a car ride. They smile instantly when they see my nose in the wind, ears flapping, smile steady while I watch nature and contemplate life.
One time I saw a redfish in the marsh and tried to jump out mid-drive. Honestly? Worth it. Mom disagreed.
I love to fish. I’ve caught a few and delivered them proudly like, “You’re welcome.” She was shocked. Why? This is literally in my job description.
At the beach, I shapeshift. My legs turn into wheels. Throw the ball in the water and I will dazzle you. I clear waves, slice through the whitewater with torpedo precision and retrieve like it’s my calling — because it is. Big waves? What wave? But ask me to jump in the car? Absolutely not. I’m not a monster. Please pick me up.
I do have some “things” that are unusual — but who doesn’t? Mom sure does. If light hits glass just right and throws a prism on the wall, I lose all composure. Cross-eyed. Locked in. Full investigation mode. It’s like I’m chasing tiny rainbows sent from another dimension, and I will catch them.
My motto is: “I do it all for the cookie.” Sit, stay, emotional support — cookie. Small things bring me big joy. You’ll find me right behind you at all times. I’m the peacekeeper. The shadow. The soft place to land.
I came through a few chapters to get here, but I am exactly where I was meant to be. For as long as my tail wags my body, I’ll keep showing up — loving big, smiling wide and chasing light wherever it finds me.