I have attempted to reply to this a few times, but last night was so busy I kept getting interrupted and would lose what I wrote.
I blame the beagle, which is easy to do because she was always the troublemaker and she’s no longer with us.
She was a misbreed, all black, but you could see the beagle spots in the light. I saw her running around the neighborhood for a few weeks, but she would never let me approach her. They used to make duck fat rolls as high value treats, and she came right up to me looking for more. While waiting to see if anyone claimed her, we saw reports of other little black dogs found in the general area where we live. Nobody ever claimed her, so we figured they were a litter of unwanted dogs nobody wanted and was dumped off on the side of the road.
She became the surrogate mother for the beager, an intentional cross between a boxer and beagle. A relative bought the dog as their first act of turning 18, decided he didn’t want it, and my in-laws tried to take her in. She was too much for the person recovering from cancer surgery, so we traded her for the Chihuahua who was getting picked on by another much larger dog. The beager slept in the beagle’s crate with her and was taught all her bad habits.
The beagle would always have a panic attack any time we went anywhere in the car, which was too bad for her because we love to travel and camp. Since the momma would cry, so would the baby, and we often had two beagles howling in the back of the car. They had to be medicated for long trips because they would never settle down.
The beagle, the Chihuahua, and our boy who used to pick on the Chihuahua have all passed, but we loved them all. We still have beager, and she still whines when riding in the car, but it’s nothing like the full-blown panic we used to see.
My dog is afraid of A LOT of stuff.
Her name… I don’t know how to put on a translation of her name. Let’s call her Becky.
Becky is afraid of brooms.
Becky is afraid of fireworks and thunders.
Becky is afraid of boxes, no matter how small they are.
Becky is afraid of chairs.
Becky is afaid of pigeons.
Becky is afraid of ants.
I have attempted to reply to this a few times, but last night was so busy I kept getting interrupted and would lose what I wrote.
I blame the beagle, which is easy to do because she was always the troublemaker and she’s no longer with us.
She was a misbreed, all black, but you could see the beagle spots in the light. I saw her running around the neighborhood for a few weeks, but she would never let me approach her. They used to make duck fat rolls as high value treats, and she came right up to me looking for more. While waiting to see if anyone claimed her, we saw reports of other little black dogs found in the general area where we live. Nobody ever claimed her, so we figured they were a litter of unwanted dogs nobody wanted and was dumped off on the side of the road.
She became the surrogate mother for the beager, an intentional cross between a boxer and beagle. A relative bought the dog as their first act of turning 18, decided he didn’t want it, and my in-laws tried to take her in. She was too much for the person recovering from cancer surgery, so we traded her for the Chihuahua who was getting picked on by another much larger dog. The beager slept in the beagle’s crate with her and was taught all her bad habits.
The beagle would always have a panic attack any time we went anywhere in the car, which was too bad for her because we love to travel and camp. Since the momma would cry, so would the baby, and we often had two beagles howling in the back of the car. They had to be medicated for long trips because they would never settle down.
The beagle, the Chihuahua, and our boy who used to pick on the Chihuahua have all passed, but we loved them all. We still have beager, and she still whines when riding in the car, but it’s nothing like the full-blown panic we used to see.
This was a lovely read, thanks for taking the time to share. Bonus if you have any pics to share <3
Here is cash the Chihuahua helping Eli investigate a box.
Never got a pic of my dog on a box, she hates dogs. She’s basically claustrophobic.
and i kinda get the reason, we rescued her from neglective owners who let her alone the whole day on a dark room so
That was Eli, and he’s only worried about whether men are around or something is being delivered.
Emeril was fine with boxes, but terrified of laundry baskets. He also loved fireworks and thunder.
My dog is afraid of A LOT of stuff. Her name… I don’t know how to put on a translation of her name. Let’s call her Becky.
Becky is afraid of brooms. Becky is afraid of fireworks and thunders. Becky is afraid of boxes, no matter how small they are. Becky is afraid of chairs. Becky is afaid of pigeons. Becky is afraid of ants.
I could list LOT of more items.
My family would say Becky is just a baby.
Well, Becky’s already growing white furs so
Checked with the family.
Still just a baby.
The little one is Rory. He’s 4 months old and just a baby.
The bigger one is Eli. He’s 10. Also, just a baby.
Sorry about the ninja edit. I am tired and messed up.
Silky the beagle Della the beager Eli the labrashepherd Emeril the black mouth cur