Рита Браун: The Hounds And The Fury

Corais the strike hound, which means she often finds the scent first. She’s the dominant female in the pack and is in her sixth season.

Dianais the anchor hound, and she’s in her fourth season. All the other hounds trust her, and if they need direction, she’ll give it.

Dragonis her littermate. He possesses tremendous drive and a fabulous nose, but he’s arrogant. He wants to be the strike hound. Cora hates him.

Dasheris also Diana and Dragon’s littermate. He lacks his brother’s brilliance, but he’s steady and smart.

Asais in his seventh season and is invaluable in teaching the younger hounds, which are the second “D” litter and the “T” litter. A hound’s name usually begins with the first letter of its mother’s name, so the “D” hounds are out of Delia.

THE HORSES

Sister’s horses are Keepsake,a thoroughbred/quarter horse cross, written TB/QH by horsemen. He’s an intelligent gelding of eight years.

Lafayette,a gray TB, is eleven now, fabulously athletic and talented, and he wants to go.

Rickyroois a seven-year-old TB gelding who shows great promise.

Aztecis a six-year-old gelding TB who is learning the ropes. He’s also very athletic, with great stamina. He has a good mind.

Shaker’s horses come from the steeplechase circuit so all are TBs. Showboat, HoJo,and Gunpowdercan all jump the moon, as you might expect.

Betty’s two horses are Outlaw,a tough QH who has seen it all and can do it all, and Magellan, a TB given to her by Sorrel Burrus. Magellan is bigger and rangier than Betty is accustomed to riding, but she’s getting used to him.

Czpaka,a warmblood owned by Crawford Howard, can’t stand the man. He’s quite handsome but not as quick as the thoroughbreds, and when he’s had it, he’s had it. He’s not above dumping Crawford.

Matador,a gray thoroughbred, six years old, sixteen hands, was a former steeplechaser. Sister buys him.

Bombardier,Sybil Bancroft’s thoroughbred, has great good sense.

THE FOXES

The reds can reach a height of sixteen inches and a length of forty-one inches. They can weigh up to fifteen pounds. Obviously, since these are wild animals who do not willingly come forth to be measured and weighed, there’s more variation than the standard cited above. Target;his spouse, Charlene;his Aunt Netty;and Uncle Yancyare the reds. They can be haughty.

A red fox has a white tip on the luxurious brush, except for Aunt Netty, who has a wisp of a white tip, for her brush is tatty.

The grays may reach fifteen inches in height, be forty-four inches in length, and weigh up to fourteen pounds. The common wisdom is that grays are smaller than reds, but there are some big ones out there. Sometimes people call them slabsided grays because they can be reddish. A gray does not have a white tip on its tail, but it may have a black tail as well as a black-tipped “mane.” Some grays are so dark as to be black.

The grays are Comet, Inky,and Georgia.Their dens are a bit more modest than those of the red fox, who likes to announce his abode with a prominent pile of dirt and bones outside. Perhaps not all grays are modest, nor all reds full of themselves, but as a rule of thumb, it’s so.

Earlis a gray fox, two years old, living at Paradise.

THE BIRDS

Athenais a great horned owl. This type of owl can stand two feet and a half in height and have a wingspread of four feet. It can weigh up to five pounds.

Bitsyis a screech owl. She is eight and a half inches high with a twenty-inch wingspread. She weighs a whopping six ounces, and she’s reddish brown. Her considerable lungs make up for her stature.

St. Just,a crow, is a foot and a half high. His wingspread is a surprising three feet, and he weighs one pound.

THE HOUSE PETS

Raleighis a Doberman, who likes to be with Sister.

Roosteris a Harrier and was willed to Sister by her old lover, Peter Wheeler.

Golliwog,“Golly,” is a large calico cat and would hate being included with the dogs as a pet. She is the Queen of All She Surveys.

OTHER ANIMALS

Bruce and Lisaare otters who live at Paradise along with their many merry children.

Old Flaviusis a forty-pound bobcat, quite fierce.

A wild boar over four hundred pounds, who if he had a name wouldn’t tell anyone.

CHAPTER 1

Silvered with frost, the geometric patterns on the kennel windowpane displayed Nature’s gift for design. Sister Jane Arnold stared at the tiny, perfect crystals, then turned back to the large old oak desk in the middle of the office. In warmer weather the back door of the office would be open to the center aisle in this, the main kennel. She found it comforting to inhale the odor of her hounds, to hear them breathing as they slept on their raised beds. Today, Boxing Day, December 26, Monday, the mercury clung to twenty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. The office felt warm at sixty-eight degrees, and she gave a small prayer of thanks that she’d found the money to put in a new heat pump and venting for the main building. The hounds, nestled in their straw-filled beds, threw off body heat, so the thermostat in their portion of the building was kept at forty-two degrees. The actual temperature hovered near fifty. The two medical rooms were warmer. Fortunately, no one was in sick bay.

Christmas culminated in such frenzy that Sister wished Joseph and Mary had been sterile. Sister found Boxing Day one of the happiest days of the year. In England, thousands would turn out in the villages and along country roads to witness hundreds of vigorous folk riding to hounds. The ban on foxhunting, voted by Parliament in 2004 and coming into force February 2005, was a sorry work of class hatred. The first Boxing Day after the ban was 2005, and British foxhunters rode out to a man. Local authorities declined to arrest these men and women. Constables knew that foxhunting benefited the livelihoods of their communities. The bizarre aspect of the foxhunting ban was that not even the most fervid Labor Party members pretended they wished to save foxes. It was perfectly fine with them if the farmers shot the beautiful creatures. The whole point of the ban was to punish those suspected of wealth or title from enjoying themselves. The fact that most English foxhunters were middle-class people was lost in this revenge on the wealthy few. As the Labor Party had created seven hundred new criminal offenses under Tony Blair’s leadership, the fact that noncountry people tolerated these infringements on their rights shocked Sister.

She wondered whether Americans, no longer conversant with country life—and worse, feeling superior to it—could become as illiberal as the Laborites. The political push to ban foxhunting in America would start on one of the coasts, but Sister believed it wouldn’t succeed. Americans still retained vestiges of common sense. Better yet, Americans did not hunt to kill the fox. They were content to chase the highly intelligent creature until he finally eluded them—easy enough for the fox.

Sister’s study chair had rollers on it, and in a burst of enthusiasm she propelled herself around the room and spun backwards.

Shaker Crown, the huntsman, opened the front door at this moment. “Someone’s happy.”