# He aint' Nuttin' but a Hound Dog



## Ozarkgal (Jun 7, 2013)

A blood hound that is:

On Wednesday evening I was summoned up the driveway to the gate by this guy's distinctive hound howlings.  He was standing in front of the gate barking at me as I tried to shoo him away.  He started back up the road, and about 10 pm when I let the Gangstas out for their last run of the evening, there the old hound was, back at the gate curled up next to the tree.  

 We left him there and went to bed, only to be awakened shortly after by a loud crashing noise. We jumped up and went to investigate, finding the hound in our back yard. He had walked the fence line to where it ends down at the creek  and came into the back yard, tried to jump over a small wrought iron gate into the front yard, and blew the gate off the hinges, which caused the crash. 

 We stood and watched him roam around the front yard for a few minutes, then he wandered up on the deck where we were and introduced himself. I walked toward the pasture, and he willingly followed me, where I left him and we went back to bed. In the morning I was at a loss as to what to do with this character, I took him up the driveway to see if he would head home. No dice, he again wandered the fence line and came back into the yard. I put him back in the pasture, and got busy calling everyone I knew to see if they knew the dog, and tried with no success to get in touch with the local rescue group.

 Hubby and I sprayed him down with Ovitrol as he was loaded with ticks and very skinny to boot. His nails were ground down to the nubs from travelling, and he had not had "brain" surgery, which likely prompted his wanderings. 

Then we finally went to town and posted found ads on all the bulletin boards in town and bought a bag of cheap store brand dog food. He hadn't won me over enough to feed him the Gangsta's $55 a bag premium dog food.  I told Hubby I was naming him Baskerville, as in the "Hounds of Baskerville", due to his howling bark. 

Later that day the local rescue finally got in touch with me and agreed to come out today to give him shots, assess him, and make arrangements for vet work.  Since Baskerville seemed determined to hang around here, and did not appear to be aggressive toward the Gangstas, BBB or the cats, we agreed to foster him. 

Last night we awakened by his hound howling, which was coming from the back yard. I knew he had escaped the pasture that is fenced in 4 foot square wire and metal farm gates.  This morning Baskerville was no where to be seen and since we had to go to Mountain Home we thought maybe he would be waiting at the gate for us when we got back.  It was kind of a relief when he wasn't. but none the less we wondered what happened to him.

 Shortly after we got home, the lady from the rescue called me and told me he had been spotted by one of their members at a restaurant in town, which is about 12 miles from our house, down two highways.  They picked him up, and the man who spotted him agreed to let them keep him in a chain link fence on his property until they could figure out what to do with him, but he is moving.  This rescue operation has no physical building and relies solely on foster homes for support.  Obviously, he is a wanderer and would probably not stay here without higher fencing, so fostering him here is out.

I hope he lands in a good place, he is a pretty sweet old guy, who would probably make a nice pet, once he has a lower lobotomy.


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## VaughnThomas (Jun 8, 2013)

Beautiful story.

I wish Baskerville all the best!


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## TICA (Jun 8, 2013)

He looks like a Sweetheart!   Good for you for helping the little hobo.  I hope he finds his people soon.


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## That Guy (Jun 8, 2013)




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## That Guy (Jun 9, 2013)

Looks like Feral Tom had to find a good home the hard way and glad to hear he's following The Admiral's orders.


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## Happyflowerlady (Jun 9, 2013)

That is an awesome Bloodhound ! I hope that he finds a good home, and someone to take care of him, too ! I used to have a friend back in Idaho that had a Bloodhound. and Arlyss would go traveling also, but usually he was just trying to follow the kids to school, and tracking the school bus to town. 
One day, I had gone to Safeway shopping, and in wandered Arlyss, and headed straight for the meat department !  He was so large, no one wanted to catch him, but when I said I knew him, they didn't call the pound, and I took Arlyss out and loaded him in the back of my truck and took him back home. Norma and I used to laugh about the day that Arlyss went shopping for steaks. 
She finally had to tie him up when the boys went to school, so that he didn't follow the school bus to town. In the winter, they went across the road snowmobiling, and Arlyss would spend hours sniffing his way along every trail where they had gone with the snowmobiles, and she said he would finally make it back to the house late that evening, totally worn out, but happy.


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## SifuPhil (Jun 9, 2013)

Awww!

I would name him "Blue" and we would have adventures together, our toenails jointly being ground down to stubs. I would warn him of the dangers of the humans giving him that "lower lobotomy" - how it would make him fat and lazy and take away his zest for travel, just as it did me. 

Then we would go off and raid a few dumpsters and spend a few hours gnawing on our finds. He would howl his happiness while I did my Huckleberry Hound voice-over (or Augie Doggie or Doggie Daddy, depending how I felt). We would pick ticks off of each other and then lay down in a warm circle, falling off to sleep to dream of chasing down the biggest, nastiest honey badger the world has ever seen. 

Then we would both go and piddle on the barn cats, just for fun.


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## Pappy (Jun 10, 2013)

SifuPhil said:


> Awww!
> 
> I would name him "Blue" and we would have adventures together, our toenails jointly being ground down to stubs. I would warn him of the dangers of the humans giving him that "lower lobotomy" - how it would make him fat and lazy and take away his zest for travel, just as it did me.
> 
> ...



Thanks Phil.....it's 6:30 am here and I'm having my first laugh of the day.  Pappy


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## FishWisher (Jun 10, 2013)

I detect very little respect in this thread for male brains. None at all, as a matter of fact! Worse yet, only one male spoke out in our defense. This is a bad start on the new day.


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## Pappy (Jun 10, 2013)

FishWisher said:


> I detect very little respect in this thread for male brains. None at all, as a matter of fact! Worse yet, only one male spoke out in our defense. This is a bad start on the new day.



Point well taken, FishWisher...no offence meant. I will try to keep my "humor" under the proper heading.


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## That Guy (Jun 10, 2013)

FishWisher said:


> I detect very little respect in this thread for male brains.


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## Ozarkgal (Jun 10, 2013)

Phil..he's looking for a forever home...sounds like you two would be a perfect match.  What's your address, or do you want to pick Blue up when you make your country visits...by the way, how's the planning for that coming?


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## Ozarkgal (Jun 10, 2013)

TWHRider said:


> > I could never catch the Feral Tom cat that decided our barn was his home, no matter what.
> 
> 
> 
> The secret to catching a feral cat is give up trying to catch it and to set the trap with catching a racoon in mind...I tried unsuccessfully for several months to catch our feral cat. Finally, when I gave up a month ago and was setting the trap for racoons, there he was, hissin' and pissin' his displeasure of being outsmarted. He joined the racoons in the cemetery for a reunion party...now before you newbies or PITA lovers get your hackles up...an old cemetery is where the critters are relocated to resume a happy life after being live trapped.


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## SifuPhil (Jun 10, 2013)

Ozarkgal said:


> Phil..he's looking for a forever home...sounds like you two would be a perfect match.  What's your address, or do you want to pick Blue up when you make your country visits...by the way, how's the planning for that coming?



Ah, yes, thank you for reminding me - I have to continue Le Grande Tour, now that I'm back from the trenches. 

As for Blue, I'm not so sure - I can barely take care of myself; I don't know what I'd do with a howlin' hound in Wilkes Barre. He might scare all the neighbors' pit-bulls! layful:


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