My husband is a beagler. He has two beagles - seven-year-old Lady and her three-year-old 'puppy,' Joey.
We chose my parsonage over Hubby's because this one has a bigger, fenced-in area.
Beagles bark. That's a fact of life. I truly and earnestly believe that God gives beagles a requisite allotment of barks that they need to use up each day. Hubby's dogs are purebred beagles. They bark at everything and at nothing.
Last Sunday (my last day at CINS), Church-Around-the-Corner decided to have an outdoor hymn sing in their pavillion. Amazingly, the beagles were quiet all
throughout the service - until the last hymn.
As my new congregation started the last hymn, Lady and Joey added their voices (aw-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh) to the paean of praise. I was told the congregation stopped singing, listened, laughed and allowed the beaglesong to fill the morning skies while the accompanist carried on.
No one was upset. Folks have since told me that we've trained them right as Preacher's Dogs. They were just adding their praise to the Divine for a good move, a great location and people who love huntin' dogs.
Hubby already has gotten numerous invitations to go rabbit and pheasant hunting with Small Town folks.
I think I'm gonna like it here!