I had conducted the research, though I will admit now that I weighted certain categories to help predestine the outcome, the bill had been paid and a young dog would soon be apart of our family. He was a pure bred Black and Tan Coonhound, about three months of age and he hailed from the Peach State of Georgia. After the transaction was completed, the breeder notified me of this hound dog’s flight schedule. From what I recall, he was scheduled to take a nonstop flight from Atlanta to my local airport. He explained to me that I was to pick up the dog at the cargo area of the airport.

On the day that our new dog was to arrive and be welcomed into our young family, I eagerly set out for my local airport. As instructed, upon my arrival at the airport, I hastened to the cargo area. There was one man managing the area. I greeted this fellow, gave him the flight information and indicated that I was there lay claim to my new dog. The man asked me the name of the dog that I was picking up. I indicated that as of yet the dog did not have a name. The fellow indicated that there was a dog on board the flight that went by the name of Roy. With nothing to lose, I instructed this chap to bring Roy out so I could have a look at him and perhaps make a positive identification. The man eagerly complied. Within a few minutes he resurfaced with a medium sized dog crate. I peered inside the crate and took a gander at Roy. He was black and tan with big black droopy ears and a bit jowly, a feature that would cause drooling and ultimately not endear him with my wife. I happily confirmed with the man that Roy was the dog I was expecting. The man performed his duty and inspected my credentials prior to releasing Roy into my care.

I took the crate with Roy in it, loaded it into my car and drove him to my house. At home the other family members gathered around to see what Roy was all about. I opened the crate and after a short while Roy cautiously ventured out and surveyed his new surroundings. He seemed pleased with his new residence. Roy was to be house dog, so like all dogs of this sort he needed to learn the rules of being housebroken. His learning curve in this area was a bit slower than many dogs, for as I was learning, coonhounds can be a stubborn breed. This was also the case with regards to his sleeping habits. At first he was confined mostly to his crate, but gradually he was allowed to increase his time spent outside the confines of his crate. Roy lived up to the reputation that coonhounds have earned. They love to be comfortable. He proved this time and time again as he continually fought for his rights to nap or sleep on the furniture. Though he was not always obedient as was further evidenced by his frequent desire to eat out of the garbage can, all in all Roy was a good dog. He was gentle with my children. He nose worked great. At this point his favorite smells were not those of raccoons, but rather the smell of take out food from The Boston Market or pizza from the local pizza parlor. He loved to bay loudly to the music of a harmonica and he bayed at the garbage truck on garbage collection day. I think he thought that the garbage truck was a coonhound too. Roy was a Black and Tan Coonhound and life was good.

Originally published on Associated Content / Yahoo Contributor Network (YCN) on May 26, 2009

© Copyright, Han Van Meegerin – All Rights Reserved