Nothing But Love :: golf blogger

The Beagle and Me

If you've been here before, you might know that we have a beagle named Scout, who is playful, fun-loving, and keeps the house clean. She behaves herself for the most part and is a good watchdog, howling at the sight or sound of anything unusual. She sleeps on her back on many occasions, which is
pretty funny. She plays well with our boxer, Sheba, and doesn't bite little kids. And she cozies up to me when I'm sitting on the couch or laying in bed. She is very loving ... until it's three in the morning and I let her out. She will not come in the house when I call her. It's a big joke to her. She will stay outside for an hour or so, if she feels like it; and no amount of bribery will bring her back.

My friend, DT, told me that beagles are like that. Once they get something into their heads, they don't let go of the thought.

But Scout the Beagle is not like other dogs with which I have been acquainted. Whereas all of the dogs we have owned have done the catching thing, Scout doesn't. And I'm not talking about catching Frisbees or stuff like that. I'm talking about easy things, like a piece of meat. Every other dog that I have had could catch a piece of steak tossed in the dog's direction. Most of the dogs would even catch it when it is thrown across the room. And if they missed, they would make a valiant effort trying to catch it, you know, like knocking over stuff, like lamps, on tables. And I would throw other stuff, like popcorn and grapes, and they would catch the stuff. It's fun, but then again, it doesn't take way much to entertain me.

But not Scout. I could make it easy for her, be like maybe not even a foot away, and she won't catch what I'm tossing her way. She is like Napoleon Dynamite, getting hit in the face with the steak by his uncle.

If I throw her a spiral-sliced piece of Honeybaked Ham, the piece of ham will smack her right in the face. She doesn't move. She doesn't blink. Smack! Right in the face. No movement. Nothing. She doesn't even open her mouth. Or move away. Whap in the face, then the meat falls to the floor. If I miss her face, she won't move. She doesn't even flinch. The meat flies past her and smacks on the floor. Only then will she excitedly make a move to get the piece of meat. Then I get yelled at about messing up the clean floor with a piece of meat.

No ... it's not Scout who yells at me. She just bends down and snorts up the piece of meat. Scout, that is, not the one who yells at me. Then Scout has the nerve to look longingly at me for another piece of meat ... to try to get me into even more trouble.

There is another of the species on Earth which behaves in a similar fashion. The domestic cat.

Posted by Bill at March 2, 2005 09:18 AM