The story of Brando the beagle
I am very sad to report that Brando the beagle passed away on July 3, 2009 at the ripe age of twelve and a half.
Brando was born on November 14, 1996 in Salt Lake City. Soon after Travis and I got married, we decided to go the next step and get a dog. For our first dog, our strategy was to get a purebred dog from a reputable breeder so we didn't get surprised later if we chose a pound puppy that has "emotional baggage". (We know that this theory is wrong, wrong, wrong and we'd adopt now. But that was our theory then.)
So we researched dog breeds and the small beagle size and gentle temperament appealed to us. We further researched good breeders in SLC and found him. My mom and dad went with us to pick him out in early January. I remember that Brando stood out because he kept coming over to us, while his siblings were busy playing with each other.
Despite picking him out in January, we didn't bring him home until early February. I think he was around 10 weeks old. His official AKC name is "Bisoux Mutiny on the Beagle", which is a nod to many things: a movie by Travis' favorite actor at the time (Marlon Brando), a movie that Marlon Brando was in ("Mutiny on the Bounty"), Charles Darwin's ship ("The Beagle"), and of course the breed itself. "Bisoux" is the kennel/lineage from which Brando came.
Above: Brando, newly home.
We already had Zowie the cat (who was 1.5 years old), and she quickly established that she was the boss to the wee puppy and they've lived in harmony their whole lives.
Above: Brando and Zowie turf war on the sofa.
He was the cutest puppy EVER. I know you all think that YOUR dog was the cutest, but you are simply wrong. (Sorry. No offense.) Travis told me once that if we ever broke up, he got the dog because Brando was such a good Babe Magnet.
Above: Brando at five months.
Above: Babe Magnet!
We did family portraits with him, too.
I dabbled in "tracking" with him. Tracking is a dog sport where the dog uses its nose to follow an unmarked (at least, not visually) scent trail through and across different landscapes. Think of what a bloodhound does.
The first time we heard him bay (the classic "BAROOOOOO!" sound a houndmakes), he was playing with and chasing a golden retriever at theUniversity of Utah and we genuinely feared for a moment that he had severely injuredhimself. It was such a loud, agonizing, desperate racket; we thought,"Well, he couldn't have broken his leg because he's still running!?..."Then we realized that Brando had hit the highest emotional ecstasy abeagle can have, and that is the sound that erupts from within.
We knew that beagles could have some annoying habits, being hounds and all. He could have been a barker, a howler, a digger...but he wasn't any of those. He really was a "good beagle". (Yes, beagles have a lowered set of standards.) He was content in his yard and never tried to dig out or destroy property.
The only bad thing about Brando: his insane, unwaivering, compulsive, driven, maniacal (you get the idea) obsession with food and anything he felt smelled like food. He was legendary on this front, and has given us many stories and doctor bills.
We literally had to lock up the garbage can and cursed ourselves when we would walk in the door and see the garbage strewn all through the house, coffee grounds and who-knows-what leading out to the backyard doggie door.
Our guests learned to put their purses up or behind the closed bathroom door because he would root through their bags and eat chapstick, breathmints, medication, and gum.
He's eaten 16 of those sawdust-filled fake mice (Zowie's toys I bought in bulk) and a Costco-sized bottle of Rolaids (and then proceeded to "flock" the backyard).
My mom and dad had to construct a fence around their tomatoes and other produce whenever they were dogsitting him, and Nanny always cleaned up under the cherry and fruit trees before a Brando visit.
He knew where the neighbors kept their outdoor cat and dog food and would make a beeline for it if he got out. If we weren't fast enough to get him, he'd waddle home, belly greatly distended, and would spend the next 24 hours laying around, snoring and emitting odors.
I'm sure that Brando would say that Julia's arrival was the best thing that happened to him. Think of all the dropped and forgotten food a child generates! Once, when Travis was feeding Julia Cheerios at her high chair, Travis walked by and thought, "Hey! What's this crunch-crunch-crunch sound under my feet? Oh, it's Cheerios. On the floor. Wait a minute...doesn't compute....where's the dog?!" The presence of loose food on the floor alerted Travis that the dog had escaped into the neighborhood.
It was Brando's obsession with food that led to the sad events of this week. On Thursday July 2 we took him to the vet because he hadn't eaten in over a day (big red flag for Brando). After some blood work and xrays, we learned that he had a blockage of some (still unknown) sort in his belly and an infection. He stayed at the vet overnight for treatment, but nothing moved or changed. We had to make an educated decision on whether to pursue major surgery...or not.
We will miss you buddy. You were a good boy and gave us many funny "that's-SO-Brando" memories.
We were very sorry to hear about Brando's death. He has given all of us (and our visitors) alot of fun, happy memories. He was quite a character!! We will miss him as will Zac. Love, M,D, & Z
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