Lox
Fort Worth, Texas
Lox. He was my wife's dog when I met
her.
This Beagle ate to live and lived to eat. During his incredibly long and
obstinate life in he ate an entire bottle of vitamins, drank Scotch, ate
six hotdogs and two bowls of ceral in one setting, and even ate
sheetrock. He was a shark in a dog suit. If he was moving, there was
food.
He was like the smelly, eighty year old uncle who came to the family
parties and passed out at the table.
For some reason, we loved him.
At one point he had to have a CAT scan to see why he was stumbling
around. They had to shave his head. A Beagle with a shaved head can be
excused for a lot of weird behavior. When they found a tumor in his
abdomen, they operated. The tumor was so large that he wound up with a
lot of loose skin. At one point, he actually stepped on his own penis.
We should all be so lucky.
After he died, we buried him in the side yard. I placed a huge rock over
the grave. Terri asked why. I told her it was to keep him from being dug
up by other animals, but in reality, I was afraid he might sniff a waft
of bar-b-que in the neighborhood, and come back for one last nosh.