YOU know what they say about the best-laid plans. One of the houndbloggers had a plan that went well agley, as the poet said, at a recent meet. Well, it wasn’t so much the plan as the hound truck that went agley, right into a post.
When one is riding around in the hound truck, one feels as if one ought to help. So it was that when kennel manager Michael Edwards, collecting a hound at the end of the day just off a two-lane country road, asked one of the houndbloggers to please back the hound truck into position so he could safely load the hound, that houndblogger snapped to attention and did her best. Mr. Houndblogger is blameless in this; at the time, he was miles away, babysitting the house hounds. It should be said here that I am short, and the truck is tall. I should also point out that a dually is considerably wider than, for example, our faithful Tercel (the legendary Jeeves) or even our other faithful car, the Tucson named Brabinger (featured in this post).
In my attempt to back the hound truck into the side road where Michael stood waiting with the hound, I might not have done the Very Best Possible job of wrestling the truck into position for optimal hound-loading. There might have been a stone pillar involved. It could be that there is now a dent, perhaps even a significant dent, marring the beauty of the otherwise very lovely hound truck. Now, in his own defense, Michael was trying heroically to direct me from the ground, and I did hear him say, “Turn your wheel all the way to the left,” but I missed the part about “Whoa! Whoa! WHOA!” until I heard the CRRRUNCH that usually signifies that it is too late. I did, at least, hear that.
*Sigh*
Here is the result of the houndblogger-pillar-hound truck combination:
The Dent.
Now, when you do something as egregious as running the back end of the hound truck into a pillar, there’s really only one thing you can do to make up for it. Actually two things. One is to write a check to the Hound Welfare Fund and hope the hounds forgive you for messing up their nice ride. The other is to wear the Hat of Shame, which at least brings a smile back to the faces of the hunt staff.
The Hat of Shame takes a little explaining. In theory, it sounds like a good idea, which is probably why someone who shall remain nameless, we’ll call her Lilla, decided to order it in the first place. It’s a cowboy hat that is also a riding helmet. Again, this sounds great: a truly safe cowboy hat.
But then you put it on.
And then you see the problem. It. Is. Weirdly. Huge.
- Yes, that’s why they call it the Hat of Shame.
I think there’s a reason that this hat is non-returnable. Besides, it will come in handy the next time some other hapless hound follower puts a dent in the hound truck.
An Eider Update
Beagle House’s newest resident, Clear Creek Beagles Eider, is settling in well to civilian life. His biggest accomplishment to date: learning how to climb and descend the Notched Hill. We don’t like to laugh at any of the house hounds, but, really, it was pretty comical to watch poor young Eider galumph up and down the stairs–once he figured out that was what they were for, that is. The first night he was here, we carried him up to bed, and the next morning we carried him down again for breakfast. I know, I know, but we did.
His worst stairs experience had nothing to do with going up or down–at least not on purpose. He was lying across the top of the stairs, relaxing happily, but then, inexplicably, decided to roll over. This was not advisable, because instead of rolling away from the stairs, he rolled toward them–and promptly rolled down them, having, apparently, forgotten that they were there. I didn’t see this, but Mr. Houndblogger reported that Eider righted himself about halfway down but then had too much momentum going and, instead of making it to his feet, belly-slid down to the bottom. Once he came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs, he popped right up on his feet and stood blinking at the Notched Hill perplexedly. Fortunately, he was no worse for the experience.
Mr. Box demonstrates the fearsomeness of the Notched Hill.
Eider is learning a lot of other things, too, mainly along the lines of what are and are not toys. Eider’s favorite toys are the remains of several plush rabbits, rope chews, and an oversized tennis ball. Eider’s favorite non-toys are the garden hose, any sock, my Dansko clogs, the front doormat, my horse’s old martingale, the saddle pads stacked on my saddle rack, and any of the dog bowls. Pajamas are good, too.
Hooray for Hounds!
We noted with pleasure that Hickory, a Scottish deerhound, won Best in Show at Westminster last night. Congratulations, Hickory!
UPDATE TO ADD: One of Hickory’s co-owners, Dr. Scott Dove, is an honorary whipper-in at the Old Dominion Hounds, according to a story at Foxhunting Life!
You can watch Westminster’s video of the hound group judging on their site at http://www.westminsterkennelclub.org/ . A beagle, incidentally, was second to the deerhound in the hound group.
For more nice pictures of the hound herself, visit our friends at Pet Connection. Their contributor Christie Keith has a Deerhound named Rawley, so she was understandably happy with the result.
The result was all the more special because it marked the second time in three years that a hound has won Best in Show at Westminster. In 2008, the winner was the 15-inch beagle Uno. You can watch his Best in Show win–the complete class–here.
Full Cry: A Hound Blog 