Living a Dog’s Life
By Millie Baker Ragosta
Beagles were bred to hunt, not loll around in the lap of luxury. In fact, if a lap dog is what you want, you’d probably do better with a miniature poodle. My father-in-law insists a snug, wooden dog-house with a piece of heavy carpet nailed over the opening and lots of clean straw for bedding is all beagles need. He’s a rabbit-hunter after all and I dearly love him, so far-be-it-from-me to argue with an expert on beagles.
However, much as I love him, it’s hard for me to praise a man who introduced us to life with beagles by handing a beagle puppy to our three-year-old, Margaret, the day I was released from the hospital after emergency surgery.
It seems Mom Ragosta had flatly refused to allow him to build another snug wooden dog house with a carpet nailed over the opening to house the beagle puppy one of his cronies gave him, so he brought it to our house in the country for husband Vince, me and our kids to look after.
Now, I ask you, could you take a beagle puppy away from a tiny, three-year-old?
I couldn’t either, so our first beagle who we named Snoopy, of course, joined our “baker’s dozen.”