I have a long love affair with Beagles. A lot of people will find umbrage with me claiming to love dogs, but never having an inside dog. That just speaks to different peoples tastes in pets and how much they want to be one with them. I’m fine with a dog having a nice comfy bed in the garage and waiting for me to come outside and go for a walk. But if someone wants to share their human bed with a dog, that’s you own business. What a man or woman does in their bedroom is up to them.
I won’t go into every interaction I’ve ever had with the Beagles we’ve had around, but I’ve been really fond of them all. What I mostly like is they aren’t big enough to rear up on me and knock me down, and their general temperament doesn’t lend itself to be all that annoying, if you get past the barking when they get on the trail of something, which they seldom ever find anything.
April, the longest lasting one for this family was a real sweetheart. We eventually had to put her down. Sad day indeed.
Our son Jason acquired a replacement in Lucy, while he still lived at home. Lucy loved to ride on the Gator. One day she made her final trip when she rode down to the mailbox, jump out and was no match for the rear wheels of a dually truck that was passing by.
My best buddy, Tommy Houy, knew how much I loved those little Beagles, so he had a nice granite marker made for them. We have an area out from the house that has received numerous pets in the more than a quarter of a century we have lived here. His gesture meant a lot to me.
It was a few years before I was ready for another Beagle, but one day I journeyed over to Briggs where I got Jazzy. If I ever had a dog that may have developed into my little traveling companion, it would have been Jazzy.
Jazzy had a terrible habit of running out to greet me. One time when I got home, instead of pulling up and stopping I decided to circle out to my shop to unload something. I know she wanted to greet me as I got out of the door, so she ran after me, probably giving no regard to the trailer I was pulling.
I rushed her out to the veterinarian. After the X-rays and examining, he felt like she could probably be saved but would never have a quality of life she deserved.
I always wanted to add her name to the original marker, but there wasn’t room. I was at Dayton Houy’s monument shop a few weeks ago and ask him to put her name on a stone. I picked it up and brought it home the other day. I still need to dig it down to make it level with the other stone. Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know.
Our son, Jason, now is an established member of our wonderful family compound, with his home being just adjacent to the pet cemetery area. he brought his very adorable Beagle, Sam, as in Samantha with him several months ago when he moved from Georgetown. I really have taken to Sam, more so the the other half dozen or so barking, yelping canines now within the compound.
There is one problem with Sam. She is about to age out on us. She still gets out and follows her nose, but seems lost on the property much of the time, like she not sure which way it is back to the house.
I had a sit down conversation with her this morning and we even walked out to the Beagle X-ing, which has a different meaning now than when the sign was originally erected out by the front entrance. I assured her there was room for here right next to the other three when she decides to Cross-Over.