|Junebug sat nicely for the photo shoot, but Mom was a disaster at|
taking pix and holding me, so this one is courtesy of Kym, who
recovered quickly after I knocked her over.
"I can't believe that woman would get a hound after knowing him," my sister said, not because she doesn't love me, but because she has witnessed a great deal of my tabloid-worthy behavior while in certain local establishments, which she ticked off just in case I didn't recall: "Howling. Rampaging. Stealing stuff. Being completely annoying." She could go on, and probably she did, but I stopped listening.
Instead, I was dreaming about my newest crush, Miss Junebug Havens. She has lovely Southern manners and beautiful markings, and she's devoted to her new mom, Kym Havens, assistant manager at Wellesley Books. Kym indeed did rescue Miss Junie because of me, so I'm glad I've done something right. Either Kym was so taken aback by my shenanigans that she felt she needed to challenge herself, or she has got an amazing sense of humor. I suspect the latter, because she apparently thinks I'm really, really funny.
As we used to say in the news business, three's a trend. Another lovely girl, Marcy, I've yet to meet, but Mom did and gave her approval, though Marcy's mom told her she had eaten four rolls of toilet paper that day. "Is he a bit...mischievous?" asked Marcy's mother, searching for a tactful way to say what my sister so clearly expressed.
Mom directed her and Kym to coonhoundcompanions.com, a great website run by super knowledgeable hound people. Their Long Ears blog has a helpful post called Tips on Adopting a Foxhound, or you could read on that same blog Mom's valentine to me, which also has some excellent reasons to adopt your own personal Tucker!
In case you've got the Junebug hound bug, here are some things you should be prepared to buy:
- a martingale collar
- a locking carabiner leash
- training sessions
- many, many treats
- a six-foot fence.
Don't bother with tennis balls or Frisbees, because we are not the retrieving type. We are the give-me-an-inch, I'll-run-several-miles type. Be prepared. We're coming. We'll turn heads. We'll make you laugh. Sure, we can be a bit, shall we say, mischievous, but we are worth it.