A Bluetick Hound's First Hand Report on Life as it was Meant to Be

My name is Zoe. I'm a blue tick hound who lives with her brother,Buster, and her mom, Judi, (she's the two-legged one), here in the mountains of western North Carolina.

Our lives started out pretty tough. Buster and I were just a year old when this mean old guy, the one who kept us locked up in cages, took us out for yet another hunting expedition. Along with our six brothers and sisters and some friends, we were crammed into the back of a beat up pick up truck and taken out to a field. When the old guy opened the back gate, we all jumped out and knocked him over. That was our do-or-die moment. Buster, who was born just a few minutes before me, and I looked at each other. In a split second we knew we had to make a run for it. There we went, hauling our butts to the deepest darkest part of the woods. Exhausted and hungry, we hid and slept until morning. When we awoke we found ourselves near a clearing and a farmhouse with smoke pouring out of its chimney. We approached cautiously, hoping for a respite from the bone-chilling December cold and our growling stomachs.

To make our story short, let me say the lady of the farm was a saint named Karen. She kept us and fed us for three weeks until finally, after advertising for our owner (he probably couldn't even read!), she had no choice. She had three little kids and three little dogs and just couldn't keep us any longer. Looked like we were pound-bound.

But lo and behold, the stars of Christmas shined upon us. That was the day our mom-to-be, Judi, showed up. She had heard about us through a friend of a friend and thought, "Well it's not a lab puppy, but I'll just take a peak". And so she did and the rest is history. Somethings are just written in that great book of fate. She was meant to be ours and we, hers.

She feeds us, brushes us, massages our necks and backs, gives us great stuff to ward off diseases and ticks, loves us, hugs us, even kisses our noses. She has so much love to share, probably because she never had any kids. We protect her, warn her when folks are around, keep other four legged creatures away from her, and behave beautifully when we know she wants to be proud of us. We're spoiled rotten, but so is she. She tells us we are two of the great loves of her whole life! Can you imagine? And when she feels down after a tough day at work or the end of a relationship, there we are, giving her our best hound dog look. You know? It's the one we're famous for...the sad eyes, all bloodshot and glassy. Add the slight tilt of the head and you get the picture.

So there you have it. Sometimes it's just not about how many legs you have, but where the ones you have carry you.