At The Beagle's Beck And Call

Tomorrow, I plan to celebrate. I might even have a glass of champagne! See, it’s going to be a really big day. Tomorrow morning, I’ll take Phoebe, our beagle, to get her stitches out...which, I hope, will mark the end of my being at our beagle’s beck and call.

Here’s the deal. I would be the last person you’d want to partner with on a reality game show. Need a partner to go running with? I’d just slow you down. Need another driver to get you through the frozen tundra? Don’t call me. You’ll regret it.

But…are you sick? Feeling poorly? Need someone to fuss over you? That’s me. I’m a great caregiver. I make soup. I play cards and puzzles and dominoes. I can sit by a bedside for hours and read aloud to you. Over the years, I’ve fussed a lot over my husband and kids.

And…I think my beagle noticed. Three weeks ago, she woke up not being able to walk. I picked her up and carried her to the vet…and found out that somehow-known only to her and the wiener dog-she tore her ACL. Something had to be done. I’ll admit, given the fact that she’s 12, we did have a momentary hesitation about the surgery…but there’s a story about our beagle. See, she’s more to us than just a dog who likes ham.

When Phoebe was almost a year old, she pretty much saved our daughter’s life. Lesley was three and was playing in the garage. I was on the driveway weeding or something, when all of the sudden, Phoebe let out three sharp barks and stood at attention. Lesley, who was playing near Phoebe, went running to me, and I went running over to see what had the dog so upset.

It was a coiled rattlesnake. It had been right next to little Lesley, and Phoebe saved the day.

So…of course, on the 21st, I took Phoebe in for surgery.

I should have known a convalescing beagle is not a pretty sight. The poor thing’s leg and hindquarters were shaved down to bare skin. She’s got a three inch scar on her back right beagle knee. And she was on all kinds of drugs, all which made her loopy.

But within a day, she got one thing down-if she barks, moans, or attempts to hobble, I’ll stop whatever I’m doing and fuss over her. That includes carrying her down the front porch steps so she can do her beagle business. And carrying her from room to room because she hates to be alone. And then retrieving her giant sheepskin bed because she needs a soft place to sit. Have I mentioned that she’s thirty pounds?

Now, I’m happy to say, she is getting around pretty well. Just last night she started putting weight on her hurt leg. So, I guess my days of ‘beagle watch’ is over.

I’m just hoping her other knee doesn’t go out any time soon. Or worse, that Suzy the wiener dog doesn’t try to get on the action. Then I really won’t be able to get anything done.

I have a feeling I’m not the only one to fuss over a pet. Anyone want to share a story?

Shelley
www.shelleygalloway.com