This is Sixty

Or The Beagle Diaries, continued

Last week, she ran away.

It was before eight o’clock on Sunday morning and the weather was caught in a springtime rain that’s somewhere between miserable and nurturing. Our yard is fenced. For the most part, the deer in the neighborhood are indifferent to this, but we really thought we’d Beagle proofed it and that she wouldn’t find her way out.

Gosh, were we wrong. I had a thousand things to do and needed to start the day. My husband was still asleep when I came downstairs to let the pooches out, start the laundry, make the coffee and begin the usual rigmarole. Five minutes later, Toby came back in, but Lucy did not.

There are several good places to hide in my yard. The side of the house has a large shrub, inside of which a critter can find some alone time. Under the deck is also filled with possibility, and of course the side of the garage is great, because our neighbor’s compost is quite close. I’m sure a hound can stand there and take in deep breaths to imagine everything that’s turning back into earth.

But Lucy was in none of those places. She had managed to wheedle her way into the composting neighbor’s yard…