Baylee III

That the little Beagle girl didn't want to be captured is not deniable. What she didn't understand is that we looked at it as more saving her versus capturing her and that we believed she was put in our path for a purpose. We had no concept of a future with the little gal...we just believed that she needed saving. The morning after the near-miss we returned to the same spot along the road prepared to feed her, but she was nowhere to be seen. I imagined that the close call was too much for her and that she had no intention of getting anywhere near that horrible man and woman again. We gave up and were driving toward the farm listening to the local Swap and Shop program when we heard a caller asking if anyone was missing a Beagle since one had appeared on their porch the evening before. When the caller gave her phone number, we realized it was our sister-in -law who lived next door to the farmhouse. We headed in that direction, got to the house, and, sure enough, the little Beagle sat a safe distance from the house in their yard. Knowing that there are lots of Beagles, I managed to get close enough to see the identifying mark I was looking for: a little white crescent moon at the back of her head. At some point, the brave, little girl had left the safety of her ditch home and headed two miles down the road in search of something a little safer.

If I went into detail over what transpired over the next couple of days (Labor Day weekend), you would stop reading. It is involved! I'll cut to the final scene: a hot Labor Day Monday, Geri and I armed with the Beagle's favorite wet food and some vet-prescribed valium. The setting was 300 acres of open farmland and woods, and, looking back, just the thought of the task of cornering and capturing a scared (and quick) Beagle would have been enough to make most people say, "Forget it."

Over a couple of hours, we coaxed the Beagle to eat some valium-laced food. We sat and waited for the valium to kick it. It did and the little gal became a little tipsy and lay down in the weeds for a short nap. Knowing that timing is everything, I headed in her direction with a collar and leash. A hundred yards, seventy five, fifty (Beagle sleeping, I think), twenty-five yards, fifty feet (I'm a genius - this is actually going to work!), twenty feet (Beagle opens eyes and looks at me groggily), slow,steady, fifteen feet, twelve, ten (I'm a double genius-almost there!), five feet, I reach forward with the collar (easy now, easy...quietly but quickly put - the - collar - around - her n...)wow! she's awake, up, and gone. Lesson fourteen: Even a Beagle on valium is faster than a 57 year old man.

I ran a lot that morning. Somehow I kept the Beagle contained in an area of a couple of acres. I intervened every time she got close to being able to get to the road. I had several near-captures. Often, both the Beagle and I had to lie on the ground, a distance apart obviously, and gulp in hot summer air until we caught our breath. Geri said, "You need to stop...you're not going to catch her." That's all it took. Round two began. And ended badly for me. Round three. Round four. FINALLY - the Beagle ran on my brother's porch and took shelter next to my brother's coonhound (Cooley - God rest his soul). She felt safe enough next to him (and it was almost like he knew what his purpose was - just stand very still and don't spook the Beagle) for me to get a leash around her. She and I were both completely out of fight. She put up just a minimum of resistance. I put her in a cage, loaded the cage into the back of the truck, and we headed for the Animal Shelter.

I remember one of the greatest sights of my life was looking through the cab's back window at three days worth of extraordinary effort laying comfortably on the floor of the cage, finally able to chill out and enjoy the fading effects of the valium. Neither she nor Geri and I had any idea of what the future would hold. But sometimes it's just enough to relish the moment. (To be continued)