Breed Haiku Challenge!
Stubborn little nose
Finds its way without a map
GPS on paws
Tri-colored and keen
Pleading eyes and happy soul
The hound of my heart
Several years ago, Jessie Beagle and I visited a veterinary specialist two hundred miles away in the Windy City. Jess was fifteen at the time, which is old by anyone’s canine standard, but she was still active and spry, and I wanted to get to the bottom of some health issues she was having. I was fortunate to find a young veterinarian in Chicago, trained at Iowa State Veterinary College. She was a spitfire from Scotland and was a good sport about her Scottish accent, amidst so many Midwesterners. She quite clearly loved animals, and had a special penchant for my old, very white beagle. For the purposes of this article, we’ll refer to her as McTavish.
During one of our last veterinary visits, I remember that Jess was not allowed to eat prior to one of the tests being run, which is unthinkable, if you’re a beagle. McTavish, however, was knowledgeable about the power of treats, and used a biscuit to entice Jess into position for testing. Once in position, she deftly dropped the biscuit into her lab coat pocket, much to the beagle’s disdain. Nearly an hour later, when all testing was finished, McTavish carried Jess out to the waiting room, and while holding her, relayed the test results to me.
I must digress for a moment in order to adequately describe the scene that occurred next…
As a young teenager growing up in a small Iowa town, recreation opportunities were limited, and so the local swimming pool was a popular gathering place. We devised many a game to keep ourselves entertained on hot summer days, one of which involved dropping coins into the deep end of the pool. We would surface dive for hours, as finders were keepers, and in those days a quarter was worth up-ending yourself and going without oxygen for sixty seconds. Picture four or five of us, legs pointed skyward as we repeatedly dived to the bottom of that pool, looking for treasure…
This is one of the lasting impressions I have of my senior beagle on that particular vet visit. In an instant, she had upended herself – skinny, determined little hind legs kicking upward as her nose dived directly downward, her entire head disappearing into the laboratory coat pocket, much to the amazement of McTavish. A few seconds later, beagle head still pocketed, we heard the unmistakable sound of biscuit-crunching -- Beagle Victory!
It is one of my many fond memories of Jessie Beagle, and hence, the following Haiku…
Surface dive to find
That biscuit so rightly hers
Pocket protector
The gauntlet has been dropped! Here's a challenge to all of you bloggers to create some breed Haiku of your own!
