Friday, June 13, 2003

The Beagle Noise

Because of the impending weekend, we took off a bit early. I briefly thought of hoofing it down to Penn Station instead of catching the subway, but thought better of it. I headed down to the 50th Street station to find my way home.

As I was waiting for the train to arrive, a guy walked through the turnstiles with a wheely suitcase, a duffel bag, and an adult brown and black beagle on a leash. Once he made it inside the station, he unzipped the bag, put it on the ground, and lifted up the beagle to put him inside. The dog complied at first, frantically licking the man’s face as his legs were lowered into the duffel. Then, as the guy reached back to zip up the bag around the dog’s body, the beagle stopped licking and started to emit a series of gigantic, deep-throated beagle yowls that echoed through the station like he’d been shot. Half the people waiting for the train were horrified because they thought they were listening to the soundtrack of a dog abuse incident. The other half of us just snickered because, well, The Beagle Noise.

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