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 Greg got her for me on our 14th wedding anniversary. He said there wasn’t a better way to tell me he loved me than to give me a dog. I am a dog lover to the bone and growing up with Black and Tan Coonhounds, any hound dog has a special meaning to me. We adopted her from an animal shelter (remember, they used to call them the "pound"?) in Titusville, Florida. I named her "Ruby" - we said she was a Redbone hound, but nobody knew what she was. She did have the appearance of a Redbone but her left eye was blue - not a normal trait of a hound.She was pitiful when we brought her home. We had no idea how old she was and didn’t know anything else about her. She was a mere frame of a dog - she had been severely neglected and abused. The vet would not even spay her until we added 30 pounds to her bony frame. Her back legs would not support her as she tried to run and play with our year old Beagle, Buster. We began our journey to bring her to full health and restore her faith in people. Ruby blossomed into a fine dog! She filled out nicely, had a healthy shine to her red coat, and learned to trust us not to abuse her. She was always very sensitive, although she rarely needed any correction, her beagle companion demanded constant reminders to quit barking and/or destroying anything in his path, she would tuck her tail tightly and cowl down when Buster was verbally reprimanded for whatever it was that he had done. She used her feet like a cat; I have never seen a dog do the things she would do with her paws. Our home in Florida had a screened in pool and while Ruby didn’t particularly care to go for a swim, she enjoyed watching Buster as he did. Once, as Buster tried to climb out of the shallow end of the pool, Ruby continued to push his head under the water with her foot - should have had a video! She lived most of her life as a "city" dog; she never got to hunt. We lived in areas where both had to be confined in back yards and they rarely got the freedom to be out and about - and only without a leash when Buster had managed some escape tactic and she followed along. These escapades always made me think of the scene from Disney’s Lady and the Tramp when Tramp taught Lady to chase chickens! As my husband’s Air Force career moved us from one state to another and our son to different school systems, it seemed each grade level required the students to read Where The Red Fern Grows. Jeremiah, our son, would have Ruby as a guest in his English class as a "show and tell" - a Redbone like Billy Coleman’s Little Ann. I’ve know of Redbones that were very aggressive - don’t know if it was their upbringing or breeding that made them that way, but Ruby was very passive/submissive. She was very tolerant of Buster (the Beagle that thinks he’s a Rotwiller), but there were many times that she had no choice but to fight when he would jump on her for reasons only Buster knew. I pulled them apart many times and while Ruby was very slow to fight, she would seem to only be trying to hold the hornet until he came to reason (which he would not). She never tore him up as I am convinced she could have easily done. She would try to hold his head in her mouth, gently. When I would pull them apart, Buster seemed to think that he could easily whip her if I would only hold her for him! When my husband retired, we moved one last time to NW Arkansas. Although we live in a very rural and remote area on forty acres, I could not let my dogs have the freedom to run loose. We would walk them (on leashes) down to Beaver Lake. Ruby loved to swim - she would go out as far as she could (I believe she would have swum across the lake had she had the opportunity!). She had never liked the swimming pool, but she did love to swim the lake and I would go in with her. In the spring of 2000, Greg bought an English Setter pup, Charlie. We penned Charlie and Ruby together and let Buster enjoy his personal space as an only dog. Charlie and Ruby bonded splendidly. They did escape once and I did not find Ruby until the next day and Charlie was gone for two. I found Ruby about 5 miles from the house so sore and tired she could not walk on her own. At about twelve years old, the old girl had set out on an adventure with a young bird dog and just could not keep up. Some construction workers had seen her but she would not come to them when they called her, they left me a message and when I went to where they had seen her and called, I heard a pitiful cry in reply and found my old girl exhausted, hiding in some brush. She cried as I put her in the Jeep and continued to cry (howl) until I found Charlie the next day and three miles farther from home. Once he was back with her, she recuperated quickly from the adventure. She had a beautiful voice, coarse and soft at the same time, deeper in tone than other female hounds I have had. She taught Charlie to howl like a hound dog. And as we added another Setter to our dog population, Laci learned to howl too. Laci and Charlie had a litter of pups on Christmas Day, 2004. We kept three of the pups. My husband is a bird hunting guide, he kept Dash and Two Dot to train as bird dogs and I kept Little Bit because she was the runt (that’s another story!). When coyotes would do their midnight serenade, Ruby, Buster, and the Setters sing along in perfect hound dog harmony. Eventually, this became a ritual - even without the coyotes. Charlie is a very healthy and athletic dog, but on wintry or gloomy days, he seems to be prone to depression. Ruby would not leave him alone to mope, she’d pounce at him until he would have no choice but to get up and romp and play with her. To our knowledge, they never fought. They had a special bond and were buddies. They stayed in the same doghouse, although they had one each (we call it the twin howlers), they would drag out their blankets and lay in the sun together. With the exception of her initial malnourished condition, Ruby was healthy. She only required routine checkups for shots, etc. She had a good health check up in the fall of 2004, but in February of 2005, there was a sudden change. Her blue eye turned red. She could still see and had a playful attitude and healthy appetite - I just passed it off that she had in some way injured her eye. There was no indication of infection or inflammation. About a week later, she was blind and in spite of her appetite, seemed to have lost down to the frail frame of a dog I’d adopted some twelve years ago, although her abdomen seemed to be of normal size, her hip bones began to protrude. Ruby always loved cornbread, she heartily ate the servings I made the night before we took her into the vet. I had requested her appointment with the vet that owns the clinic I use. She is the best vet I’ve ever worked with (and I have worked with many over the years). Karen is honest and direct and I knew she would give the advice that was best for Ruby. Greg brought Ruby in and we met at the vet’s office. As Karen examined Ruby, I knew it was serious. There was a mass, rapidly growing. Our options were exploratory surgery, tests, etc. Her loss of sight was irreversible and she was suffering. I had prayed that God would give me the strength to do what was right for my friend and He did. I stayed with her, held her head and talked to her as Karen injected the strong dose of anesthetic that would stop my dog’s heartbeat. With eyes shut tightly and tears flowing freely, I thanked her for what she had brought to my life. My husband told me I needed to watch to see how peaceful her departure was, but I didn’t - I wasn’t there for me, I was there for my friend, so she could know I loved her as she left. I had her remains cremated. I buried her close to my treestand where the sunshine she always enjoyed will shine on her grave in the morning and evening. Initially, the routine serenade brought me to near unbearable heartache as one voice was missing. I now find comfort in that canine melody, Ruby is still with us in our hearts and the voices of the other dogs. |
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