Outfoxing the Enemy

Sniffy Beagle meets Scotty Joe

My dad bought home our first dog - a cute little beagle puppy that I named Sniffy. I was fond of Snoopy the cartoon beagle and mine had his nose to the ground all the time. This should have been our first clue. Dad was flying all over the country for work, and he decided that his boy needed a dog, and that the pup could grow up to protect us while he was away. Parma, OH, wasn't exactly know for its high crime and intruders, but Dad has always been proactive. Trouble is, he may have jumped the gun a bit, since I was still a little guy. So now, instead of just being a single parent, part-time, to a hyperactive toddler, my Mom was chasing after a hyperactive puppy as well. I loved Sniffy, but I couldn't have been very helpful. Poor Mom may have let me "water the bushes" in the backyard a few times in the chaotic confusion of simultaneous house-breaking and potty-training.



Sniffy, totally content at Tionesta Reservoir

 



As he grew, Sniffy was true to his breed, and perhaps he was prone to visual hallucinations of sly red foxes. Just like the movies where they are "Riding to Hounds" he would begin that baying beagle bark and he was off chasing the imaginary quarry. As he matured, his song just got louder and deeper. My mother could have easily sewn matching red jackets and white breeches for me and herself, but we were not zoned for horses in our suburban yard. When he imagined foxes after dark, the neighbors shouted, but it was not, "Tally Ho!" In fact the landlord lived next door to our bungalow, and people from three streets in either direction were complaining to him. Since he was closest to the Hunt Club, he was at the head of the sleepless, angry mob demanding that Sniffy be evicted.

Laughing, as he torments the beagle
 

I was not heart-broken, because Sniffy had his nose to the ground and basically ignored me while he was hunting his imaginary red nemesis. Even I thought he was too loud. We decided that he was not a city dog, and that he would be happier out in the country in PA, living with Great Gram and Grandpap in idyllic Cottage Grove. The trouble was, we didn't know that place was infested with invisible foxes. Positively over-run with them. Sniffy warned of impending doom- the foxes were plotting world domination, and it was all starting in New Castle, PA.
 

 

Great Grandparents' house in Cottage Grove

 

On the next visit, Sniffy had been banished from the house, and was living in a doghouse in the backyard, under a shady tree. He had food and water and went for walks, but the foxes could now torment him day and night. There was no rest for him, and not a coincidence, no rest for any of the residents of the formerly peaceful Grove.
 

Only the baying of a hound could keep the demon foxes away

On our next visit, there was not a sound as we pulled up to the house. We could hear birds and insects, and the bubbling creek behind Gram and Grandpap's. Mom and Dad feared the worst, but we rounded the corner and there was Sniffy. The foxes were still holding paws and dancing in a ring around him from his wild-eyed look. He was still barking, but no sound was coming out. He had given himself laryngitis. Gram had a tea with ginger and lemon to treat that, but she knew he was safer if no one could hear him.

The next visit was the same. Sniffy's mouth opened incessantly, and he tossed his head back to bay silently, but there was no sound. He could have made a fortune if we sold him to a French mime. He was no longer a nuisance, but he was still being tormented. Grandpap found a solution and was just waiting for approval. He had asked around and found an even more remote location, out on a farm. They had chickens, and raccoons were making nightly egg raids. They needed a protective dog who could be left loose to patrol acres and keep the domestic animals safe. Sniffy got the job. There may have been hallucinatory foxes out there too, but the raccoon threat was real. He was a hero, striking terror into the masked bandits, because they never heard him coming. At some point in his life, he may have even gotten to chase a real, living, breathing fox.

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From my earliest childhood memories to the present, every household that I have ever been a part of has included at least one family dog.

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