Jojo: A Special Kind of Beagle

Growing up my neighbors, the Lehman's, had a beagle I was convinced was the dumbest dog ever to walk. I based my unscientific and prejudiced opinion on an experience I had with Jo-Jo. John Lehman, the dad, was an avid hunter and fisherman and always had a beagle for hunting. The first one I remember was a female named Cheetah or it may have been Cheater, but in “Hoosier” it came out sounding that way.

Cheetah was replaced by Jo-Jo, a friendly, laid-back pup who never seemed much interested in anything. He used to annoy me by coming into our yard and doing his business, leaving it to me to remove. He also liked to lie in a low spot where my grandparent's outhouse used to be and flatten the grass, causing it to yellow.

One day, when I was about 14, I'd had enough and decided to teach Jo-Jo a lesson. My not well thought out and ill advised idea was to go up in the attic with my BB gun and fire off a few rounds, stinging Jo-Jo's behind. So off to the attic I went. The window had no screen, just a vent my grandfather used in the summer to help cool the attic. I removed it and lifted the window open a bit more and took aim at Jo-Jo's rear end. I was feeling pretty smug as I squeezed the trigger. I fully expected to hear him yelp and run off home with his ears laid back and tail between his legs. However, Jo-Jo was not an ordinary beagle. When I hit him the first time he stood up, went around in a circle as if studying his tail and lay back down. I fired again and with the same result. I fired a third time, this time taking careful aim to hit that part of his anatomy all male mammals find extremely sensitive and scored a direct hit, but it hardly phased him. Partly out of frustration and a growing sense of shame I gave up and from that day on I treated Jo-Jo with a new sense of respect and admiration.

This is not the end of the Jo-Jo's story. The Lehman's had three sons and each one received a duckling on Easter Sunday. The Lehman's were pretty casual with pets and allowed the young ducklings to run free. Jo-Jo, the obedient pet, took no notice of these three birds and they felt no fear in his presence. As the weeks past the ducklings grew bigger until the time was not far off they would be adults. Then mysterious things began to happen. One morning the Lehman's discovered one of their ducks was missing and no trace of it could be found. A few more weeks passed before the second young duck came up missing, and like the first, there was no trace of even a feather of a clue to its fate. We were all curious and puzzled by the disappearance of another duck and we all looked at the survivor and wondered how long it would be before it too disappeared. It was two weeks later the third duck disappeared. At first it seemed our likelihood of discovering its fate was no better than the luck we'd had discovering the fate of the first two, but then there was a break in the case.

The Lehman's fed Jo-Jo table scraps and one evening Mrs. Lehman took the leftovers from the evening meal to Jo-Jo's bowl in front of his dog house when she made a grizzly discovery. The inside of the dog house was filled with feathers, duck feathers! The beagle had made the mistake of bringing the final victim back to his dog house, leaving an abundant amount of incriminating evidence.

I'm not sure what happened to Jo-Jo. I can only tell you what I was told some time long after the event. John Lehman was an avid hunter and fisherman imbued with all the values of these sports his father passed to him. I'm told upon discovering Jo-Jo was responsible for the disappearance of the three ducks, John Lehman is said to have turned a dark shade of red and you could see the fire in his eyes and the smoke coming from his ears. He rounded up Jo-Jo and the two went on one final hunt. We never saw Jo-Jo again and none of the Lehman's ever mentioned or uttered his name. It was a long while before Lehman's had another dog.