What I do know is that far too many beagles are being struck and killed by vehicles, and in the majority of cases, it’s a direct result of hunters/owners being too careless and/or downright lazy.

Notice I said, in the “majority” of cases? There are occasions when accidents are beyond our control, such as when a “buck rabbit” will take the hounds on a long, straight run, near or even across a highway, something those not into the sport may have difficulty understanding.

There’s always a possibility it could happen to my own dogs one of these days. But in my case, it won’t be because I cut them loose too close to the Trans Canada or some other main road.

Again, not every beagler who has lost a dog in this manner is guilty. I’ve chatted with a couple over the last few years who were absolutely heartbroken that their four-legged hunting buddy was lost this way. I’m talking about those who, quite frankly, don’t give a damn; the ones with the attitude that, “hey, it’s only a beagle; I can get another good one next fall for $100.”

And you know, the sad and somewhat ironic thing about it is that for the most part, this is true, because Newfoundland produces some of the world’s best rabbit dogs. This is a fact; not just my opinion.

Those are the same so-called hunters who will leave a dog in the woods to perish or hope somebody else picks it up come the end of the season in February rather than spend the time, effort and money taking care of the beagles during the seven-month off-season. It’s these few who give hunters a bad name. I know for certain that most beagle owners worship and take care of their dogs, whether the animals be loyal, hard-working hunting hounds from October to February, or loving pets the rest of the year.

Incidentally, for those considering getting into the sport, whether it be for rabbits or birds, remember that hunting dogs are a 12-month commitment.

These “roaming dog” reports that I was hearing regularly on the radio during October and early November were really starting to get to me. Then in mid-November, as I was driving home from work, I heard VOCM’s Paul Raynes relay a message from a motorist heading west on the TCH. It went something like this: “There’s a beagle on the shoulder of the TCH near Foxtrap weight scales and he’s... not moving.”

That was what prompted me to sound off publicly.

Here was a dog, doing what he/she was bred to do - providing its master and friends with countless hours of pure hunting pleasure in the woods and plenty of love and face-licking when given the opportunity at home - let loose to chase rabbits just metres away from thousands of vehicles travelling 100-plus kilometres an hour.

Folks, this is not how it’s supposed to be.

About five years ago, I pulled onto the shoulder of the Argentia Access Road and leashed my two beagles before heading inside the woods. After climbing down a small bank less than 60 feet from the road, my two hounds suddenly started barking and tugging to get loose. I saw the hare scoot across the snow, but there was no way in the world I was letting them go there. About 150-200 metres further along, they went mad again, trying to get loose after another rabbit. I practically had to drag them away.

“Forget it, boys; you’re not gettin’ off yet,” I said. “We’ve got another kilometre or so to go before I set you free to do your thing.”

Sure, it would have been tempting to some to let them loose right off the bat, but it would have been far too risky.

“But that first rabbit you saw was heading straight in, towards where we were going,” my novice hunting buddy noted.