Reminiscing about a Beagle named Bailey

Reminiscing about a Beagle named Bailey
Jeanne Buckhalter

I first saw Bailey as he walked down the street like a dog on a mission; his head held high, tail wagging at the world, a big doggy grin on his face. He was a handsome fellow; beautiful in his absolutely striking coat, the black accents, the glowing red, the little freckles on his white legs and bib. Being a polite human, I greeted him and being a highly sociable young beagle, he stopped to smell the flowers I was planting and agreed that mums didn’t offer much in the way of tummy filling, but if I had some kibble, he would be glad to munch it for me.

I invited him in, watching to make certain the big dogs: the pits, the shepherd and lab, were not rude to the visitor. Oddly it was love at first sight. The alpha females in the house were pleased with this dapper fellow and the cats tolerated him. He could have cared less about the cats. Bailey was home, and he knew it.

I made the usual calls about finding this wonderful hound, placing the proper ad in the paper and hoping no one came forward to claim him. We went to the vet’s the following day for shots and…well…”the” operation. I figured that if the owners showed up I would handle that little loss when they got here.

This dog would not stay in the yard. I don't care how many rolls of chicken wire the Husband Person put around the bottom of the fence, around the top of the fence and even under the fence, that dog got loose. The lure of the rabbits across the street in the woods and field, the deer, the birds, the freedom, the squirrels, ah Bailey could resist none of them. My husband and I enjoyed listening to his arrrooooo aroooooo as he, hot on the scent, chased a rabbit, thankfully never catching one. He just liked chasing them.

It rained and I had to go to the doctor’s, so since it was cold and wet and icky, I left Bailey in the house with the ladies. He was so adorable curled up on his blankie on the chair. We had just been given the chair and being financially challenged (down here in the south that means po), getting a new, newer, or just nice piece of furniture is a “call your kin, call your friends, call the church and invite them over to give it a sit” occasion. Bailey naturally took it as his throne.

I got home less than two hours later to find the chair half demolished. The living room was covered with chair stuffing, gold velvet fabric was hanging in shreds from the denuded frame and Bailey was sitting in the middle of the floor chewing on the removed arm of the chair. He looked incredibly proud of his efforts. I closed my eyes, hoping against hope that I was hallucinating.

I wasn’t. Bailey Had Eaten The Chair.

We had many wonderful though furnitureless years with that dog till he tried to catch a truck and failed. He sleeps with the cats in the front yard plot, the statue of St. Francis watching over them all. I believe Bailey and the others who have already gone over the Rainbow Bridge will meet me when I finally take that walk. It's going to be great and there will be tuna, steak bones and Lucky Charms for all. I think there will be rabbits too, since they seemed to enjoy outrunning the swift Beagle Bailey as much as he enjoyed the chase.