I next turned my attention to Lula. I radio-tracked her over by FR 566. Driving over there, I could not hear her but could tell with the tracker that she was close. I wondered why she wasn't barking like she does. She came close to the road several times but would not come out of the woods when I called her. I took the tracker and went into the woods to get her but she wouldn't let me get close or come to me. She was free to hunt and not having anything to do with ending the day.

After a while, I noted that she was on the backtrack and heading toward where I had put her out. Driving back there, I monitored her progress with the tracker as she got closer. A fellow on a four-wheeler came around the corner and told me there was a beagle walking up the road behind him that didn't look too good. I drove over and saw her walking into the woods. This time she did respond and came to me. She was tired, hot and thirsty. We drank some water, loaded up (which is the phrase I use when I want them to get back in the truck, as in "Ok girls, load up!") and headed home. It had been a great day!

Lula seemed to be tired but fine the next day. Then on Monday she started acting listless and would not eat. I told Pam I thought she was dying. I went to work thinking she wouldn't make it through the day. Later that morning, Pam took her to the vet's. Dr. Sands kept her overnight and gave her an IV for fluids. She also gave Lula some antibiotics as it appeared that Lula had pancreatitis. Lula came home the next day and seemed better. Pam and I had reserved a cabin in the woods for the next—the last—fox hunting weekend so that I could take the girls out and so Pam could relax. As the time came, it was obvious that Lula wasn't in any shape to go chasing deer or rainbows. So we canceled and stayed home.

Lula did better until Sunday the 13th of April. She stopped eating again then. On the 14th I did get her to eat some ice cream but not much. When I left for work the next morning, she was listless and weak. When I got home, she was worse. Also, her gums and the whites of her eyes had turned yellow. This is not a good sign. Pam and I talked it over and decided it was her time. I took her to the vet's as they said they would see us as soon as we could get there. We drove there, Lula in my lap helping me navigate with her head out the window and her long ears flapping in the breeze. While waiting in the rear yard of the vet's, Lula was hunting ... the ol' nose never leaving the ground and licking cat poop. She was a sh-- eating dog fer sure. Dr. Sands did one more blood test and found the liquid part of the blood, that should have been clear- to straw-colored, to be dark. She told me that she could rehydrate Lula with an IV but that it would be a short-term fix. I said no and the decision was made. At 5:00 PM on April 15, 2003 Doc gave Lula a shot of red stuff while I held her and looked into her eyes. Strong and trusting eyes. Her gaze and mine never wavered even through my tears as her body relaxed in my arms and she was gone. After, I cradled her limp body to my breast and pressed her muzzle to my cheek for one last kiss.

Lula was cremated and her ashes sit atop the television. I will be sprinkling most of them in the woods by putting them on the backs of Molly and Julie when they run their races this year. A few specks are already dispersed. I put a thimble full in my palm to let Molly smell it ... she ate it instead.

Pam can't bring herself to drink hot chocolate of late.

I miss my girl!

Lula: 199? - 2003.

PS: As Lula would want, we have a new pup in her honor. A boy this time, named Doodoo, after a nickname Pam had given to Lula. I wanted to call him Lula but Pam said it would give him a complex; but that's another story. He is going to be a good hunting companion and likes to give kisses already but he can't be Lulabelle. He may bear the number 1 on his side but there can never be another Lula.

Doodoo at six weeks.

Copyright © Jack Davis 2003