Fixing Freddie - A true story about a boy, a mom, and a very, very bad beagle - by Paula Munier

A true story abuot a boy, a single mom, and the very bad beagle who saved them

Eat, Pray, Love for Dogs

Eat, Pray, Love for Dogs

Elizabeth Gilbert has made quite a name for herself—not to mention oodles of money—sharing her secret to a happy life in her bestselling memoir, whose title sums it up rather neatly:  Eat, Pray, Love.

Freddie could have written that book. (And boy, do I—and my bank account—wish he had!) My beagle and Ms. Gilbert share a very similar philosophy.

Eat.

Freddie is all about food, all the time. Last night I found a mouse in the dog food can, and in my hysteria I poured out all the Purina Dog Chow onto the floor. Freddie and his pal Shakespeare (the shaggy mutt we adopted from the pound 11 years ago) lapped it all up in record time, Freddie hogging the lion’s share. He didn’t get sick, but the plaintive and loud moaning and groaning that accompanied his food coma kept us all up all night long.

Pray.

Freddie has an appreciation of the mysteries of life, nature, and the universe that can only be described as spiritual. He practices his walking meditation on our long treks through the cranberry bogs in the mornings. He sits zazen on his prayer rug in the afternoons. He howls at the moon every night—a form of prayer if there ever was one.

Love.

Beagles are known throughout the dog world for their lovingkindness—and Freddie is no exception. Granted, he’s not every man’s best friend—especially the UPS man’s!—but  those he loves, he loves truly, madly, deeply, and physically. He barks, he licks, he sniffs, he coos, he nuzzles, he wags, he wails, he sleeps on your toes and your ankles and your lap and whatever other part of you onto which he can maneuver.

So move over, Julia Roberts. Freddie can play himself when the canine version of Eat, Pray, Love comes out. Unless, of course, they insist on a younger, thinner Freddie Doppelganger for the part.

I can hear Freddie howling now.

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Fixing Freddie on sale now in bookstores

Fixing Freddie on sale in bookstores now!

Fixing Freddie on sales at bookstores

Fixing Freddie by Paula Munier is a true story about a boy, a single mom, and the very bad beagle who saved them. A true story about a boy, a single mom, and the very bad beagle who saved them.

The millions of readers and moviegoers who enjoyed Marley & Me, A Three Dog Life, Merle’s Door, and Amazing Gracie will bark out loud to this memoir too! In this hilarious and heartwarming memoir, single mother Paula Munier takes on the world’s worst beagle—and loses every time. The puppy that destroys her kitchen cabinets, bites her dates, pees on her neighbors, and bays at the moon is her worst nightmare—and her son’s best friend. She tries everything to fix him—from obedience training and an animal behaviorist to contemplations of puppy Prozac and, well, fixing him. But nothing really works. As Mikey grows up and prepares to leave home, Paula’s worst fear is that after more than thirty years of raising kids, she’ll be left all alone—with Freddie. But by the time Mikey graduates from high school, Freddie has howled his way into her heart—and earned a lifelong place in her empty nest.

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Welcome to the Fixing Freddie Blog!

Thanks for stopping by! We appreciate our furry friends and readers so much, so don’t hesitate to send us an email and tell us what you want to hear about!

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Hugs & Howls,

Freddie and Paula

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Freddie Ate the Cake

There are dogs and then there are beagles. I didn’t know that when my son Mikey talked me into getting him a beagle puppy. But I was soon to find out. That’s what FIXING FREDDIE is all about; it’s the story of a boy, a single mom, and the very bad beagle who saves us both. The book is coming out in hardcover in August 2010—but Freddie’s story is hardly over.

Every day with Freddie is an adventure. My son Mikey’s recent high school graduation was no exception. It was a beautiful summer day, and all the family was gathered at the lakeside cottage where we live. The lake glistened in the afternoon sun and the roses in the garden were in full bloom and I was feeling pretty proud of my boy, myself, and my life.

In the spirit of the celebration, Freddie was on his best behavior. He didn’t growl at the graduates in their scary long gowns and funny hats or bark at the neighbors who dropped by for cake or bite my ex-husband when he showed up at the house for the first time since Mikey and I moved in six years ago, more’s the pity. (Just kidding. Really. Well, mostly.)

Mikey's cake

Mikey's cake before Freddie ate it

Several of our guests complimented Freddie on his good manners. One summed up the general sentiment when she told me, “I can’t imagine how you wrote a whole book about how bad Freddie is. He’s such a love!”

I nodded in agreement, blinded by happy tears. Like his human Mikey, Freddie was growing up. He’d graduated to Grown-Up Beagle, proud recipient of a Good Dog! Degree. I patted Freddie’s silky ears, wiped away my tears, and smiled at my son across the yard.

I congratulated on myself on raising a fine son and a fine dog.

Then Freddie ate the cake.

After Freddie ate the cake!

After Freddie ate the cake!

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