Tom Watson wrote:
When I was a young fella - and by young I mean twelve - I wanted a
beagle to go hunting rabbits with me.
My Momma, being from stout stock, told me that I could not have one
because we lived in town - and beagles need to be in the country.
My Momma, being from stout stock, thought that living in town meant
that we had a neighbor nearer than shouting distance. It did't seem
like town to me.
I got over it.
When I got to be an older fella - and by older I mean fifty - my wife
gave me a beagle for Christmas.
We still lived in town by Momma's definition - and I no longer hunted.
Anyways, she who was to be known as Emma showed up in my life about
thirty eight years too late - but there she was.
Cute puppy.
Beagles are hounds and, if you've ever spent much time with hounds,
you know that you ain't ever going to truly housebreak them.
The woman who bought Emma for me also acted as the person who sent her
out of my immediate life - because Emma pooped on her good rugs - go
figure.
I was raised to know and I have always said that life in general is
divided into indoor dogs and outdoor dogs.
Hounds are outdoor dogs.
We sent Emma out to live with my Momma - who actually does live in the
country. We heard tonight that Emma was killed on the road.
I hope that she was baying in full voice.
I loved her both pup and dog.
I'm sorry to hear of Emma's demise. Hounds are great dogs and deserve our
love.
My own hound story...
In 1954 when I was a freshman in college - fresh out of the USN - I lived
the first semester in a fraternity house. One day one of the brothers
brought home an elderly black & tan hound to be the chapter's mascot.
I don't know where he found the dog but he (dog, not brother) was very old
and nearly blind from cataracts. He also had a few shotgun pellets in him
so I always suspected that he had outlived his usefulness to his original
owner so said owner had taken him out in the woods to dispatch him but
bungled the job.
Well, after a couple of weeks the powers that be among the brothers decided
that an old, nearly blind hound was too much trouble so they gave him to a
commercial biological lab. No problem with the dog pooping/****ing inside,
BTW.
Biological labs do terrible, awful things to animals...things I do not agree
with so I reclaimed him and took him to my mother's home some 120 miles
away. "Look, mom - I brought you a new dog!". She was not thrilled but,
being a mother, let him stay.
He got along well with the little old lady terrier mom already had and the
terrier was quite taken with him. He went totally blind in a year or so but
had learned his way around before hand...he could find his way around the
house and yard with zero problems. No pooping nor ****ing problems either.
He was a good dog; always friendly, loving and amiable. And smart. And
enthusiastic - ask him if he wanted to go for a walk and he was READY!!
Woofing and dancing...
I would see him whenever I came home at a holiday but that wasn't all that
often and after graduating I moved far away and saw him not at all. The
terrier - Trixie - had died while I was in college. He missed her but
adapted. He died a couple of years after I graduated. I have no idea how
old he actually was but he was ancient - my guess is 20+. His name was Sam.
Wish I had been able to spend more time with him.
As I said, hounds are great dogs and deserve our love.
--
dadiOH
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