I’m hoping this picture will show it well enough, how we caught a beagle on the fishing line this weekend.
Yes, an unattended fishing pole had bait on the hook, and guess who took the bait!
The hook went through her lip from the inside out, then curved around to hook her again under her nose.
Not a wimper from her, but she wouldn’t let us touch it. Of course the hook was barbed, so of course, we ended up going to the emergency vet on Sunday evening.
She almost died under the anesthesia, never been gassed before, and for a moment, to think — well, anyway, it was scary there for a little bit.
Still, she made it through like a little trooper, although I don’t think she will enjoy fishing with us any more.
We thought about getting her a diamond stud to put in the new hole in her lip, but then decided against it….
While the rest of the nation has been fighting severe winter weather, most of us here in the Mid-Ohio Valley have been dealing with rain. Days of rain. Soggy ground. Mud, mud and more mud.
Freezing temperatures just hit us last week as our trees and bushes were beginning to bud. Today, within a few hours, there has been an accumlation of one inch of snow.
It’s about time.
(Mother, are you wearing the snow boots I got you for Christmas?)
The lake is white, the birds are feasting at the feeder (a red-headed woodpecker at this very moment).
This is Daisy’s first snow accumulation. She loves it. She spent her first five minutes outside, running around sporadically, stopping every few few to take a new taste test of the white stuff. Boy, did she ever want to just run.
So, I put on my coat and gloves and my new snow boots, and we went for a walk.Â She is such a hound dog.
Now she’s ten months old, and I realize I haven’t posted any recent photos of her — there are tons, especially since we got a fabulous new digital camera for Christmas. So, I’ve picked my favorites to share:
Daisy Dew Drop has become “a woman,” and we’re learning so much about her.
For example, when we bought a baby gate, we learned she can climb.
When we tried to pen her behind the five foot high counter, we learned she can jump that high.
Then, we learned that diapers for an 8-14 pound baby are too small for an 8-14 pound dog.
Then we learned that it is very difficult to put a diaper on a squirming body, and that once it’s on, she can grab the tabs and pull it off in less than two seconds.
We learned that it’s easier just to tie her outside, but then we learned that there’s a stray dog in the area.
(Thank goodness we got her inside before he found her.)
So, we’re back to the daily diaper struggle.
After experimenting with different size/type holes for the tail – and noting that the sticky tabs must go on the diaper and not the panel that lets you peel them back off – we spent several hours giggling as she walked crooked, and spun in circles trying to grab her own bulky butt.
Poor Daisy Dew Drop. She’s about to meet her vet.
Ever try to type on a keyboard when you have a beagle puppy in your lap? Well, it was much easier when she fit in my lap. But now, at almost six months old, she no longer fits, and is either constantly falling off one side or another, or decides she’ll try climbing upon the desk.
When I put her down, she gets mad, and chews on the handle beneath the chair seat that allows height adjustment.
I know. It’s my fault. I spoiled her.
She outgrew her puppy bed (actually it was a hand-me-down cat bed) and I went to KMart and got her a big dog bed. She’d still rather sleep with us in our bed.
Again. My fault.
I did learn a way to keep her from “helping me” in the garden. (Everything I planted, she dug; everything I laid down, she picked up.) Basically, I offered her a rawhide, and made her watch me bury it. While she was busy digging up the rawhide, I worked in the garden.
She follows any one or any thing that leaves the house via the driveway. So far, she’s turned right around and headed back once she passed the barn, but there have also been times where she got interested in the smells and inhabitants of the barn, and decided not to come right home.
It took several treats to get her attention then.
She has taken to the leash well, but is rarely on it. She understands the word “no” but is constantly testing to see if you mean no when you say no. She sits, and sits up, and has no interest whatsoever in shaking. She’ll bring whatever you throw back to you, but that doesn’t mean she’ll let go.
All shoes in the house are at a height of 3 feet or higher. All speaker wires are now, if along the floor, covered and secured with duct tape.
When left home all day alone (Frank went back to work), she uses her pee pad, and doesn’t poop. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. She hasn’t chewed any furniture or important possession in our absense, but has developed a fondness for tissues and paper towells, and will seek them out of small trashcans or off end tables and shred them to pieces.
She has not discovered the toilet paper roll.
She makes me laugh, smile or giggle at least three times a day, and I’m sure it’s the same for Frank. She visits the “outside” dogs, who are tied, and plays with them.
She likes being scratched under her chin, and is learning, slowly, not to crawl all over company. She eats spiders, and moths, and brown beetles. (Good girl!) She likes ice cubes. She hates baths, but she’ll visit you every time you’re in the shower.
If you set down a beer, coffee, pencil, rubber band, paper, or other item in front of her, (say, on the coffee table) she will take it – and run.
She only barks at the vaccuum cleaner.
I know I haven’t show any pictures of her in a while – the most recent are 35mm and the photos aren’t back yet.
We live in the country, and there are mice in the house.
I suppose this is a result of that fact that we no longer have a cat.
We’ve had a tribe move in, and have been emptying the traps on a regular basis.
We can’t put the traps on the floor – Daisy DewDrop is too nosy…
So, we put them on the counter, in the cupboard, you know, where they leave “their mark.”
I don’t normally pay much attention, set the trap, empty the trap.
Very rarely do I hear it snap.
Tonight however, I heard the trap snap…
And fall from the shelf into the never-used crystal punch bowl…
And ring the bowl like a bell – again and again and again.
With the end of the chiming, came the end of a life.
A death trap in a crystal punch bowl.
If that isn’t ironic, I just don’t know what is.