Name change as this is outing...
We had a Beagle when I was a kid.
My dad brought him home from the pub, along with a box of Milk Tray that he’d won in a raffle.
Said a man had said that if no one took him that night, he would shoot the dog first thing (rural area, the dog was meant to be a working gun dog). Drunk dad thought it was a great idea. The man even gave dad his pedigree papers.
Mum wasn’t best pleased, but the story made her sad and so the dog stayed. It didn’t take long before she realised why the man wanted rid of it.
The dog, George, became incredibly attached to my mum but had awful separation anxiety. He chewed everything, for the first few years of my life all our internal doors were missing the bottom 4 inches.
He chewed through the fence and went for a wander around the village, where a local shopkeeper found him.
Rather than deliver him back to my mum, he decided to teach her a lesson about responsible dog ownership, and drive the dog to the police station instead. Only he didn’t want to go there til the morning, and he didn’t want to take the dog in his own house. So he left George shut in his car overnight.
When the shopkeeper woke up next day, he found that George the Beagle had completely chewed his way through the interior of the car, seats, seat belts, steering wheel, the lot.
The local paper printed the story, and from there The Sun picked it up. George became part of an anthology of tabloid dog stories entitled “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly”.
George the Beagle was “The Bad”.
I think my sister has the newspaper clippings. It must’ve been mid-late 70s as there were lots of references made to the movie Jaws.
George loved mum and mum loved George (he slept under her bed and never chewed at all when she was with him) but he definitely wasn’t the ideal house pet, especially not with two small daughters.
When he died she got a border collie instead. Much easier.
The moral of this story is that an accidental beagle is probably not a good idea - best left to really experienced dog owners (or utter softies who don’t mind having the bottom four inches of their internal doors missing).