Dogs

Beauregard
This is National Dog Week, so I'm going to honor one of my favorite dogs ever - Beauregard. Goofy. I can't deny that Beau was a supremely, exquisitely goofy dog. Anyone who spent time with Beau used that term - goofy. I prefer the term "character." Beau was a character and he had character.

Beau was a mixed breed with a lot of blue tic hound dog in him. In fact, this picture looks a lot like Beau. He was strong and muscular - cut like a body builder. His coat glistened and he had that special light in his eyes.

He had free rein of the woods, swamp, and fields around our house. He never ventured into the road or other people's property, preferring his solitary roaming. I once saw him sail over a high fence from a stand still, gracefully touching the fence with all four paws, kissing it for balance.

One of his favorite sports was counting coup with groundhogs and opossums. Once he cornered a bobcat, intending to engage in his favorite sport. Not a scratch on him, but his howling and the cat’s snarling woke us up to investigate.

In his old age, his sport of choice was frog hunting. He would spend hours and hours circling the pond, knee deep in water with his white tipped tail straight up and nose down. The frogs joined in the game, jumping over his back as he passed by them. At the splash, he would look over at the sound, with no idea what it was.

Of course, he treed raccoons his whole life. Once he had three raccoons treed- one in each of the three wild cherry trees next to the shop.

My father, when slowed down by heart failure, would sit with Beau next to our pond, patting his head and telling Beau in a soft voice, "I know what your mother was and I know what that makes you." Beau would thump his tail in ecstasy.

He had distinctive barks for friend or foe, animal or human, wanting out, wanting in, and of course for the hunt. But unlike most hound dogs, he did not howl all night long, only for a purpose.

He was the runt of the litter and would quiver at loud noises or around people - after barking like crazy. Once he hid under the truck hood, scared of thunder. We never could figure out how he got 70 pounds of dog up through the wheel well and under the hood.

He was gun shy too. My husband was shooting mice with .22 shot shells. Beau came and hid by him, not knowing that he had the gun. Of course, standing next to the shooter may be an indication of how smart he was.

He finally grew old, suffering greatly and we said goodbye to him. Even the vet cried as she put him to sleep. Several weeks later, we received notice of her significant memorial gift to Purdue University in his memory.