A Coon Hound's Last Stand

As we moved into our own home in the 80s, my 9 year-old-son naturally wanted a dog of his own.

Brian preferred a puppy but as things turned out, a friend had taken in a stray coon hound--a regal-nosed young lady of approximately one year--who desperately needed a home and so we took a look, marveled at her sweet face, and returned home with a happy Queenee in tow.

If you know about hounds like Queenee who like to chase anything that moves (and she did develop the unfortunate habit of truck-chasing--never cars, just trucks) then you appreciate how she would see our car approaching, jump up from her comfy spot in the shade, and run to the oak tree to bark up it while looking sideways at us to make sure we noticed she was keeping the squirrels in line and taking no guff from the chipmunks either. Quite the actress, our Queenee!

And on nights with Full Moons, she'd make a beeline for the woods behind the house and bay and sing for an hour or so...she was a very lovely singer, too, even if her performances were a bit like Orpheus with his lyre, all mournful and...hound-doggish.

And so our winters took a colder turn, and Queenee's shoulder injury from chasing trucks became a misery to her. Then with her old wooden dog house having seen better days, my son checked into the retail doghouse situation and found that plastic, insulated igloo-style houses kept the even the most yard-bound dogs snug as a bugs.

Because Queenee was a not-ready-for-domestic-living kind of gal (her earliest year as a stray having interfered with her house manners),  the vet didn't recommend surgery on her neck and shoulder because she wouldn't be able to recuperate properly without constant house care.

My excellent Brian had been saving money for some time to buy the dog igloo when suddenly winter blew in with a very early freeze and it became obvious that poor Queenee was getting more uncomfortable by the day--or night, I should say.

Now daughter Maya, a cat-lover extraordinaire, had a tender spot for our royal Queenee and so she set her cap on revving her brother up to move a little faster on the igloo purchase before the snows came.

So while Brian was at school one day, Maya must have let Queenee into the house (although she's always denied it) so that when Brian returned home, he found this note upon his bed:

You may not be able to enlarge enough for reading purposes so I transcribe it for you now as it may be the only example of coon hound paw-writing in existence. Please overlook her spelling--she was at wit's end:

Dear Brin,

I be leavin' Home.

I tired of dis no account dog hous. I a superor dog an I deserv a superor hous. By the time you git dis I be gone. You dont hav haf de nose I got so dont try to follo.

Queenee

After a good belly laugh by all, Brian trundled off and bought Queenee an igloo house that very day, and Maya, who denies that she took Queenee for a ride just when Brian was due home, was very pleased with her baby bubber at last. 

For a peek at an American Black and Tan Coon Hound just like our sweet Queenee see:

http://www.gotpetsonline.com/pictures/gallery/dogs/all-by-photo/american-black-and-tan-coonhounds/american-black-and-tan-coonhound-0035/

And remember to keep those squirrels treed now--you know you can't trust the little critters! Arf Arf!