There goes my beagle pup
February 17th, 2008, 12:42 pm · Post a Comment · posted by davis
My family’s been pressing for a dog. Especially my younger daughter, Sarah.
 I think Hannah, her big sister, is kind of ambivalent, although she’s also weighed in on the subject. Really, though, she’s a cat person and may be concerned that a dog in the family would lessen the attention lavished upon her three feline friends, Fuzzball and her two adult kittens, Socks and Houston.
I’d like a dog, too, but my preferences and those of the kids, and even to some extent Karen, my wife, differ greatly.
They used to want a shih tzu, in part because my brother-in-law in Texas has one. She visits with us each time they come home.
Recently, one of Sarah’s friends brouth their Yorkie-poo to school. Guess what Sarah now wants? Yep. And I can’t even tell you what they look like.
Karen’s also expressed interest in the past in buying a Yorkie or a Westie.
Nice dogs all, I suppose, but they fall into a category I’ve never enjoyed being around too much — the yip-yap variety.
You know, those that barely make it to your ankles and that yip-yap, yip-yap, yip-yap at you (or at least me) all the time, their little teeth vibrating like buzzsaws with each shrill yip-yap, yip-yap, yip-yap. I can’t stand it.
Me? I’d like a beagle. We had one growing up. I don’t know who named her, likely my older siblings, but it wasn’t too unique or creative. Her name was Snoopy. We also had a chihuahua (I can spell chihuahua without the aid of a dictionary because of Les Nesman of “WKRP” fame) named Pancho. I was always glad Pancho came along before the Frito Bandito, although I’m not sure how Pancho escaped the name Speedy.
Despite my siblings’ lack of creativity with names, Snoopy was a great dog.
She had a wonderful, melodic bay, especially late at night, and she loved digging her way out of the yard. The neighbors loved her. Well, OK, not really.
She was also a good rabbit dog.
And she just loved us kids.
With my fond childhood memories of Snoopy, our version as well as that of Charles M. Schulz, I was pretty excited to see that Uno the beagle captured the top Wistminster title last week.
Maybe this could be the thing I needed to sway Sarah my way, I thought. Yeah, honey, we’ll get a beagle, just like on TV.
But then the next morning I heard a report on National Public Radio where someone from some animal shelter somewhere on the East Coast was saying that he was saddened and worried that Uno had won.
Saddened and worried? About Uno?
No, he didn’t have a deep hatred of Uno or of beagles in general. That wasn’t it. No, he was saddened and worried because Uno’s title meant many people would soon be buying up beagles and that soon afterward many people would be dumping their beagles at shelters like his and others across the country, if not across the countryside.
That’s a sad thought.
So maybe I’ll not push a beagle on the family. I’d rather not be part of a fad that leads to an unhappy ending for a great breed of dogs.
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