Writing With A Beagle In My Face

I have been experiencing a creative drought. Since it is easier to write an article or essay than it is to write fiction I am now writing another article. The biggest change in my family this year is the addition of Beau the beagle. The cancer medication my brother, Randy, is taking makes it impossible for him to hold down a job. This means that he is home most of the time, and Beau has formed a special bond with him. Beau is the ultimate pack animal. I hate to think what kind of mischief he would get into if he were left alone. In spite of the medication Randy has good days when he really needs to get out of the house. Today he took mom shopping. With this very important person gone Beau is really restless. I am his second favorite person, and he is now demanding my attention. It is really difficult to write when a Beagle is demanding your attention. This is a bit annoying, but there is something about those big hound dog eyes and his need for attention that keeps me from becoming irritated by him.

I decide to take Beau for a walk. My hope was that a brisk walk will make him settle down a bit. So far I have not had much luck in trying to leash train him. Our walk really turns into a pull. I might add that the pulling is not one sided. I am trying to keep him at my side and make him follow my lead. He has other things in mind. His incredible nose picks up the smell of humans, wild animals, and other dogs. If he detects the scent of a wild animal he wants to track it. I am very firm about not letting him drag me off on a hunt. If detects the smell of dog urine he thinks he must leave his marker as well. You would be amazed at how many things dogs have marked on our street. It seems as though we are stopping every three feet. He quickly runs out of urine, but if a real pee is not possible a phantom pee will do. He lifts his leg, strains to squeeze out what is not there and looks up at me is if to say that the important work he is doing is not easy. I am growing impatient. The whole idea of the walk is to give him some exercise. I am now trying to move him along. I finally cut our walk short because I am concerned about the pressure I am putting on his neck as we try to pull each other this direction and that.

When I get him home it is evident that all the pulling has not worn him out. He wants to play. I grab the other end of his toy and we have a tug of war. I let him win and he takes off running with his prize. I am too old to chase him through the house, but he has to navigate around the furniture. This allows me to step into his path. He lets me catch him. I grab the other end of his toy again. It is amazing how hard a thirty-pound dog can pull, but I eventually gain control of the toy. I throw it thinking I am starting a game of fetch. He drops the toy just out of my reach. The man who says coming in second is not acceptable is not talking about a close contest to grab a dog’s toy before the dog does. Beau nicks me with a sharp canine tooth. A little blood oozes from what is a very minor wound to the back of my hand. We continue to play until we are both out of breath. We both get a drink of water and the game is over. Beau has now taken up an hour of valuable writing time, but he has also given me something to write about.

When we first adopted Beau I saw him standing sideways on a steep hill on our property. I think he must have grown up on terrain that was flat. I say this because he made the mistake of the lifting the hind leg that was on the up side of the slope. Apparently four legs do not prevent rollovers. I found this much more amusing than he did. He did not care much for the bath I gave him either. It would be a mistake, however, to conclude from this accident that Beau is not a smart dog. If anything, he is too smart at times.

There was a distinctive clink coming from the kitchen. Our miniature schnauzer ran out of the kitchen and looked at us as if to say she was not the one who caused the clink. When we waked into the kitchen there was Beau with a corncob in his mouth. He had learned how to depress the foot peddle that opens the can where we put garbage the garbage disposal cannot process. We now have to place the can with its foot peddle pressed against the wall prevent him from stepping on it. This is inconvenient for us, but no one said that beagle proofing the house would be easy. We know that the bond between humans and dogs requires some compromises. Given the fact that Beau had been neutered before we adopted him I have to say that the dogs give up much more than we do.

First posted in macsbackporch.fictionforall.com on Sept 14, 2011