Missy the Beagle Home | Learning to be a Beagle
How Missy came to live with meIt started one day in the summer of 1998 when I got a call at work. It was my friend Judi, and she wanted me to ask around to see if anyone might want to adopt a beagle. Her mother had called her with the same request.
Judi's mother had been friends with an elderly couple who had a beagle. Their names were Joyce and Guy. I'm told that Joyce loved Missy dearly, but that Guy could be physically abusive, especially when he was drinking.
But then both Joyce and Guy died, separately, in a period of just five days. Joyce had a stroke on Sunday evening, then Guy had a fatal heart attack on Tuesday. Joyce's life-support was disconnected the following Thursday. So their beagle was orphaned.
Joyce and Guy each had children from previous marriages, but reportedly (I had this all second-hand) each set of children hated the respective step-parent (and step-parent's children), so there was a lot of animosity while dividing the effects. No one wanted "the dog." And she had a skin condition, so Judi's mother was afraid she would not be adopted if she were taken to the dreaded "pound."
I immediately told Judi, "I'll take her." Judi said, "I wasn't trying to suggest that..." but I cut her off and said, "I know, but I love your beagles and I'd like to have a beagle of my own." (Judi has two beagles, named Bailey and Princess Sunni. You'll hear more about them later.)
So Missy (I wasn't real keen on the name, to be honest) came to live with me. She was 7 years old at the time, and it was a big adjustment for her. She went from living with a couple of old people in a trailer to living with two other dogs in a house with a fenced yard. (I had two dogs already, when Missy came to live with us: BJ and Barkley, both mixed breeds.)
She was very shy and nervous at the beginning, but that sure changed!.