We are very lucky to have a house right on the Homecoming Parade route. We don't have to walk downtown, because the parade goes right past our house!
This year Dad closed us up inside the house, and would not let us go out.
Okay, he was in the right. We were going to bark. Probably an embarrassing amount.
Instead, I sat on the back of the couch, watching the parade crest the hill, with a perfect Beagles eye view and it was all good. I was shivering with excitement and nerves but I was in control. I wasn't barking or growling or jumping from couch to chair to couch in a spastastic way such as Olive Badger was doing.
I was a pretty cool cucumber.
Until the horses.
Horses came up the hill, in the Homecoming Parade, and I lost my cool. I want crazy with barking, running from door to door, trying to get out of the house.
It was a no go. Dad remained firm, and the doors remained closed, until the parade was long gone and the horses were probably trailered and on their way home without me ever having the chance to bark a greeting to them, to quiz them on what it's like to be a horse, to give them a warning that this was Beagle turf and they'd best just move on along.
It was a once in a life time event, Dad! And they didn't even poop in the road. I won't have any chance at all to get a good smell of them!