Yesterday morning I heard Beau howl for the first time since I adopted him over three months ago.  I was sitting on the sofa reading the paper and he had gone out back to explore the area behind the swimming pool.  Apparently, he must have encountered a cat on the other side of the fence near the gazebo.  I heard a rich, resonant bark followed by a baritone howl.  It sounded deeper than Bubba's ever did, although his was wonderful.  How I have missed that sound! 

Beau's long, long body creates the perfect echo chamber.  Whatever trauma he endured before I found him that would make him mute, I cannot imagine and would not want to try, but I am so happy that at long last he has rediscovered his voice.  It's a beautiful sound to anyone who loves a hound.

Yesterday, Beau howled for the first time since I adopted him.  I heard a melodious bay coming from the front patio, which sounded so much like Bubba's voice it gave me a little chill.  Beau was vocalizing at a dog and owner passing by on the street.  He also barked twice to come back into the house.  

At last, after three weeks, he has rediscovered his voice.  Peaches took much longer to find her voice again after being adopted, nearly two months.  I still remember when it happened.  She and Bubba were at the park running around inside the Little League diamond when all of a sudden in her excitement of the chase she let out a rousing Roo--roo!  I don't know who was more surprised at the sound, me or her.

Doesn't it make you wonder what kind of emotional trauma these lost, displaced, discarded animals must experience to cause them to go mute?  It should.  I wish more people would think about that before they dump their canine companions like yesterday's garbage.