I certainly hope so. I hope all dogs go to heaven, because my dog was a devil here on Earth.
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| a very young pup |
She passed away of old age the other day, just two months shy of her 17th birthday, and throughout her life she was a pain in the butt. She was a Treeing Walker Coon Hound bred for endurance, intelligence and tenacity and at every opportunity this hound exhibited her high-strung nature. Demanding attention and exercise, her howling and barking were incessant and insistent until we would relent and give in to her. She was a terror off the lead and would hurtle through the woods chasing scents and with us following her baying all the while muttering, "this is what she's supposed to do." There was no solace in that.
Elly May, had she been born a male we would have named her Jethro, required attention and stimulus and exercise and without it got into a lot of trouble. She learned how to open the door to the pantry and the door to the patio. Thankfully she did not have opposable thumbs, no telling what she would have done. She tore through screens. She would figure out ways to trick us for cookies. She was competitive and a game of throw and catch became a taunt with her as she would run up with the ball and scurry away when we tried to retrieve the toy. She once ate a bar of chocolate foolishly left on the table and devoured it with no ill effects. Evidently the theobromine in chocolate is deadly to dogs, but not to her. She lived almost 17 years. Miss Elly was the runt of her litter but the biggest pain in the ass.
When the mood hit her, and it was often, she would flee the house. We're across the street from woods and she'd chase deer or wild turkey there or trot down to the development on the other hill. I once got a phone call from some fellows who had "saved" my dog. They were terrified and upset because the dog would not stop barking. I could hear her baying in the background. "Come get your beast!" he cried over the phone. I chuckled, happy she was someone's problem for at least a small while.
Even as she got older and slowed down considerably, she was still gregarious and up for wanton adventures. The vet said she was an old hound dog that wanted to sleep and in her final years she slumbered through a lot of it, but she was ready for a walk anytime. The last couple of summers the heat took a toll on her, but with the cooler months she was more vivacious. She liked to be around people and once came to one of Janet's parties. We tied balloons to her collar and she happily weaved around the guests cleaning the floor. I was never able to tether her outside to quickly run into a store without her crying out frenetically like a child with abandonment issues. Nearly 17 years, and I can't believe she's gone.
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| everyone should have their dog on a mug |
When the mood hit her, and it was often, she would flee the house. We're across the street from woods and she'd chase deer or wild turkey there or trot down to the development on the other hill. I once got a phone call from some fellows who had "saved" my dog. They were terrified and upset because the dog would not stop barking. I could hear her baying in the background. "Come get your beast!" he cried over the phone. I chuckled, happy she was someone's problem for at least a small while.
Even as she got older and slowed down considerably, she was still gregarious and up for wanton adventures. The vet said she was an old hound dog that wanted to sleep and in her final years she slumbered through a lot of it, but she was ready for a walk anytime. The last couple of summers the heat took a toll on her, but with the cooler months she was more vivacious. She liked to be around people and once came to one of Janet's parties. We tied balloons to her collar and she happily weaved around the guests cleaning the floor. I was never able to tether her outside to quickly run into a store without her crying out frenetically like a child with abandonment issues. Nearly 17 years, and I can't believe she's gone.
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