Mooch had mastered the art of begging; sad eyes, low whine, ears forward, licking of the chops, he had it all down. He was fond of table scraps and would eat peas as long as they were well mixed with mashed potatoes and gravy. He had the mailman trained to share a sandwich every day he came.
He had a game that he played with visitors to our house that involved not letting them out of their car until someone said that it was ok. He would charge at each door barking loudly and landing his front paws firmly against the car door. He thought it was funny to terrorize people like that. But he wasn’t so brave himself. One clap of thunder and you would find him covering and whimpering under the nearest bed.
He lost half a leg chasing a rabbit through a field. The rabbit ran under the hay mower; he jumped over it, but didn’t quite clear it. He got around quite well on 3 1/2 legs but his rabbit and chicken chasing days were over.