Louise

Did you ever know someone who touched your heart? Someone who you had really enjoyed being with? Someone who, when you thought of them, always brought a smile to your face? Someone who you wished that you could somehow spend time with again?

Did you know someone like that? I did. Her name was Louise. Louise was caring, friendly, funny, determined, simple, curious, all-in………..awkward, goofy, stubborn, slobbery, and stinky. Louise was the first pet that Rob and I ever had, our beloved bloodhound, who joined our family shortly after we got married. Louise was our baby.

A local law enforcement group had recommended a breeder named Walter, so we drove to another state to select our puppy. When we pulled up to Walter's property, we were astounded to see the large number of outdoor kennels lined up in every direction around the yard. This is where the phrase "Let Sleeping Dogs Lie" becomes relevant. There were dozens of big and medium sized bloodhounds--reds, liver & tans, and black & tans— lying in various poses all around the kennel cages. While we stood for a minute taking in the sight, one nearby dog with a keen eye, or maybe a keen nose, was alerted to the fact that strangers were afoot. With slow deliberate motions he yawned and stretched and lumbered to his feet, took position and started to bay: “AHH-OOOOO…….AHH-OOOOO…….AHH-OOOOOOOOOO.” Next followed a chain reaction rustling of dog bodies, shuffling feet, staggering limbs, and a general sense of “Wha? Huh? Wuz goin' on?”, as dozens of canines were rousted from their slumber and shakily stood to support their sentry. One by one they joined into the alarm. The sound of all those bloodhounds howling and baying is something that I will never forget, unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. What's funny is that we had the distinct impression that we could have just as easily passed through the maze of kennels undetected, creating barely a ruckus, if the lead dog had lazily glanced our way, decided there was nothing to see here, and rolled over to sun the other side.  We saw a completely nonchalant, yet vigilant, guard dog. Like a very old security guard who would rather just sit in the guard house jingling keys, but when called into action would be relentless in protecting the property. Just that scene in the yard let us know we were onto something special.

There are lots of great stories about Louise. She was part of our lives for 12 years, and she was always a hoot. She was a mess. A hot mess. She was a lap dog. A 110 pound lap dog.  She loved being with her people, and just about anybody could be considered her people. She would love you and lick on you excessively. Louise had a knack for sniffing out the one person who was not a fan, and sticking to them like glue, sitting beside them, pressing into them, and following them around. It wasn't in a pleading or begging way, not "like me, pleeeeease, like me!" No, it wasn’t like that. It was more like "Doh-dee-doh-dee-dohhh, What's goin' on here? Whatcha doin'?" She loved just hangin' out, being together.

Rob’s family used to have a summer house on a lake in North Georgia. One year Rob and his cousins decided to work on rebuilding the wooden dock. The rebuilding work had to be done in winter when the lake was down and the cove was mostly dry. One weekend, a few family members and friends went to the lake to start the project. It was terribly grueling work, carrying heavy treated lumber down a deeply slanted pathway all the way down to the cove. It was the most physical labor I had done in a long time.

All the while, Louise was there. Due to a recent incident where she had discovered how much she loved to swim, we were concerned that she might wander out into the water and swim away. Note here also, that bloodhounds are widely regarded as the best canine scent trackers. Their olfactory glands command a sense of smell 1000 times stronger than a human’s. When they catch a whiff of an interesting scent, total instinct takes over and the tracking begins. You cannot trust a bloodhound to mind its own business, because its business is tending to the interesting things that it smells. Smells beckon, and a bloodhound follows the scent. Our attentions were focused on the work at hand, not on watching Louise. So, Louise spent the day lying around in the sun tied to a tether while we spent the day shedding blood, sweat, and tears as we put one leg in front of the other hauling, hammering and securing the dock in place.

When night came around, we were beat. Because it was winter and we were in the mountains, temps were dropping. In this summer cabin, there were lots of bedrooms with all manner of mismatched furniture thrown together. But there was no heat. We had brought a small kerosene heater, so Rob, a friend, and I decided to crowd into one bedroom that had 3 small beds so that we could stay warm. And Louise, of course, Louise. Thus began the most ridiculous night ever. Louise, bored of her lazy day of being tied up, decided to get something going.  It was pitch black all around, and we humans were barely conscious, exhausted and spent. Louise proceeded to petition each of us to get up with her and party. She started walking across the wooden floor of the bedroom, toenails going click, click, click, click, click until she got right up beside someone’s bed, stuck her nose right in the person’s face and started breathing heavy dog breath, Haaaargh, haaaargh, haaaargh. The person would groggily wake up enough to shift away and push her head, saying “No Louise.” She would immediately turn around and walk to the next bed click, click, click, click, click, stick her nose right in that person’s face and start breathing the hot smelly Haaaargh, haaaargh, haaaargh. That person would shuffle and moan and shove her away. And so, click, click, click, click, click, she went to the next bed. Same thing, human grumbling and pushing her away. Then she click clicked over, back to the first bed, and then the next, again and again, making a triangled path between the three beds. She kept it up the entire night. All. Night. Long. Over and over and over. We were all so tired that we couldn’t wake up enough to put an end to the nonsense. We just went on full instinct—when the noisy smelly thing got in our face, we muttered “no”, and pushed it away. In retrospect it was quite hilarious. I guess all that pacing around gave her the exercise she needed.

That’s the thing about Louise, she always felt like she should be wherever she was.  Over the years we had other pets who were burdened with anxieties or fears or uncertainties. They needed reassurance. But not Louise.  She was completely self-assured. She’d say, "Ok, I'm here guys. Let's get things goin'. What's the plan?", with all the confidence in the world. She was just happy to be here and felt confident that everyone else was happy to be with her.

My sense is that many bloodhounds share that same attitude. Shortly after Louise was ingrained in the fabric of our young married lives, we found out that a Dog Show Competition was coming to a local venue. Rob & I decided to pop on over there for the afternoon just to see what it was all about. We entered the facility and immediately saw the backstage area of handlers and owners and groomers, and all sorts of equipment and stations, and dogs on leashes and dogs standing on tables at kiosks, and many, many people fussing about. The dogs had on their game faces and they stood compliantly while humans did this & that to improve their odds of taking home a ribbon. As we glanced all around, it seemed like a different world, an other-worldly place of sprays and brushes and clippers and people rushing around trying to fancy-up their dogs. You could feel the sense of competition in the air.

Then we heard a disturbance. There was a loud sound of an opening door, followed by a wave of energy. Someone said, "Look the bloodhounds are here!", and sure'nuff they were. There were several people holding leashes with 4 bloodhounds plodding through the crowd. As they passed every station, one of the bloodhounds would lift up to put paws on the table, look around, and say “Hey guys, wuz goin on here?”, sniffing and snorting around.  As they passed any person who acknowledged them in any way, a hound would stand up on hind legs to grab the person by the shoulders and start relentlessly sniffing and relentlessly licking. Everyone chuckled and cleared a path to let the entourage push through. It was all tail-wagging, butt-wiggling, skin-rippling fun. At the top of their lungs, they were announcing "Hey everybody--Look--We're here!!!" Maybe that’s a no-no in the environment of dog shows, but, we laughed so hard watching them make their entrance as their handlers worked their way to the prep area. They were definitely crashing the party, and loving every minute of it.

We may never have another bloodhound. But, the bloodhound has secured a place in our hearts. That's why every time we see a bloodhound in person, on TV, in the movies, on a poster, in a book, in a picture, or anywhere, we think about our sweet girl and pay homage by calling out "LOUU-WEEE-EEASE!!" with love. I think that bloodhound owners are part of a canine fraternity. Those hounds tug at your heartstrings in such a way.  This summer 2022, the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show awarded “Best in Show” to Trumpet, the bloodhound. He won it all. The first bloodhound ever to win the title. Congratulations Trumpet! I’m proud of you.  I wish I'd been there to see you compete and maybe even get a big ole slobbery kiss.