Baylee IV

At the Shelter, Beagle gal was subdued. The lingering effects of the valium probably had something to do with it, but I could tell it was more. It was defeat. And, as happy and satisfied as I was in capturing/saving her, I identified with her demeanor. (Yep...I thought I warned you...I will and do give "human" qualities to animals.) She was sad to the point that I was sure I saw tears in her eyes. Or maybe they were in mine. But there was still work to be done to get her adoptable (after all that Labor Day labor, she wasn't going to end up in the freezer in a bag). We plunked down the cash to get her checked out by the vet and spayed. So, after going to her and whispering that everything was going to be okay, we left.

Baylee at the Shelter

Two days later, Beagle gal is back with a shaved belly, fresh stitches, de-wormed, all shots, and ready for the adoption route. (We discovered that she was pregnant, so now any doubt that we did the right thing by grabbing her evaporated.) I was out of town and Geri reported the latest Beagle gal news by phone. She also mentioned that she had decided to bring her home while she recovered from surgery. Probably a few days - a week at the most - and then she'd be ready to go back to the Shelter and put up for adoption. And I shouldn't worry about us keeping her because she's definitely a hunting dog and needs a farm to live on and a place to romp. And we didn't need a dog. Or any pets for that matter.

I came home a day or two later and named her Baylee. She wasn't going anywhere. The transition was slow. Baylee didn't warm up that quickly to anyone. Odd thing about that: she seemed to trust and endear herself to people that shared her personality - humble, maybe a bit wounded themselves, with a reserved honesty. For awhile she stayed on a long leash in the laundry room. She could stretch the leash from the laundry room to the kitchen. Toys were bought and she mistook most for food so only the toughest nylon bones survived. Next step was off the chain but still confined to the laundry room and kitchen area. I installed a baby gate to keep the rest of the house Baylee-proof. When she wanted some play and companionship, she would push her nylon bone or another toy through the holes in the gate. There were lots of trips outside - in all types of weather, all times day and night - to do her duties. Plus several romps around the yard, Baylee leading, me stumbling behind trying to keep up. There were even a couple of great escapes which sent Geri and I running and calling her with flashbacks of the Labor Day weekend. (One thing you know if you have a Beagle, once the nose gets to the ground, the brain loses all respect for confinement.)

Baylee in her new home

Today, Baylee has the run of the house. And a chain-link fence. And two outside houses. Fresh sheets and blankets spread all over creation. And here's the rub. She owes it all to her little brother who would find us some 18 months later: Emerald. Emerald showed how ineffective a baby gate can be to a pup that doesn't want to be behind it. More on him in a later post. And, even today, she's still one of the most stubborn and independent little cusses I've ever encountered. And we love her dearly.

Baylee lounging

Cat Watching

With brother Emerald