H and I took Toby to his favorite sniffing grounds yesterday. It's a big park with a lot of open space, and TONS of gopher/ground squirrel holes for him to cram his face into.
We were walking around and all the sudden he freaks.the.hell.OUT. If you've never heard a beagle bay, it sounds like a goose being murdered. And it's LOUD LOUD LOUD.
He starts baying and pulling at his leash. I just sort of let him pull me where he wanted to go, and he starts digging for something. Next thing I know, he's RIPPING UP THE GROUND WITH HIS TEETH. Like, biting chunks of grass and dirt up, *PTOO!* spitting it out, then going back for more. He looked like an alligator chewing on something.
And of course he starts coming out of his harness. So we have to pick up this creature that's baying and baying and baying, which sounds like we're abusing him. By this time, people are staring, cars are slowing down, and I think all the woodland creatures stopped and laughed. He had gobs and gobs of mud and grass in his mouth and in his teeth, too.
We had to carry him back to the car like a toddler having a tantrum. He didn't stop baying until we shut the door.
Best part: The very beginning of all this is on tape. H was filming it, and you can hear me saying, "OH SCHIT, HE'S OUT OF HIS HARNESS!" Then a few seconds of struggling later, you hear me hiss, "HELP.ME." and the video ends.
Aah, the joys of dog ownership.