Showing posts with label belly rub. Show all posts
Showing posts with label belly rub. Show all posts

February 13, 2012

It's my Gotcha Day!

Yup one year ago today I got to go and live with my new mama and daddy! I left behind the living in the garage thing, and got to go to a place where I got lots of lovins' right away. Daddy and I sat on the couch together and he petted me and told me how beautiful I was!

Yes I know, but go ahead and keep telling me

My new hound brother and sister were not very friendly at first and to be honest I was kind of mean to them as well - but it was a very stressful time and I didn't know what to do! Besides Rosco can be a real jealous baby sometimes.

If he sniffs my butt one more time I swear I'll...

But now I get to live in a place where there are lots of belly rubs, treats, Chicken McNuggets, and couches to lay on.

Unfortunately daddy has to lay on the floor.

I also get to dig in the blankets and hide from everyone!

I am invisible in my top-secret basset fortress

So it has been a great year! Plus I got a special nacho chip for my Happy Gotcha Day treat! So as long as the Christmas Pig Monster stays dead for the rest of all time it is smooth sailing for this basset hound girl!

January 13, 2012

Rescue Me # 3

Rosco isn't feeling so well today. He got sick in his crate and daddy had to clean the mess up at his lunchtime, and boy did Rosco feel bad. Normally he looks forward to Famous Basset Hound Friday but today he just is not in any kind of shape to be blogging. So I put my paw on his forehead and said "No worries little brother, I have your back at Jowls of Fury". This gives me the opportunity to write another Rescue Me blog post.

This week's hound is Houston of ABC Basset Rescue. The ABC stands for 'All Bassets Cherished', or as I like to call it, 'What everyone should be doing anyway'. Houston came from Texas where he was a breeder hound, which means he had to make lots of puppies but never got to play with them or anything. He's got a funny accent because he is from the south and he spells his words wrong but don't hold that against him, he still needs a forever home. He uses words like 'rootin-tootin' and 'hunkey-dorey'. You know, the kind of words that drives Beaker crazy. But he likes the things that make him a hound: snoozing, sniffing, cuddling, belly rubs, etc. etc.

Oh yeah and the ABC people came to the waddle! Plus they have a humongous hound wagon called an 'RV'. I'm not sure what it stands for, but their hound wagon is way bigger than ours. I hope daddy upgrades ours soon because I would really like to travel in style. Perhaps Houston gets to drive around New York in it?

Anyway, there is a picture of Mr. Houston below. If you would like more information you can find his adoption page here. Hopefully someone rescues him!

Y'all's from the south?

November 19, 2011

HOSA public service announcement

Greetings readers! Rosco here, bringing you an important holiday update! Now as you know, the holiday of Tanksgiving is coming up. At first I thought 'What a strange holiday - giving each other tanks.' Then daddy explained it was actually a day to be thankful for what we have. It is also a day to eat a ton of food and sleep a lot. Or, as we bassets call it, Wednesday.

But the thankful part got me thinking about what I am thankful for. I am really thankful for my mama, daddy, sisters, cousins, grandmas, toys, treats, food dish, and bed. I am also thankful for the dog park, walks, car rides, and belly rubs. Most of those things are pretty safe but mama and daddy are in constant danger - and that's where the Hound Dog Safety Administration (HOSA) comes in.

Now your humans face multiple threats throughout the day. They include slipping and falling, but a good HOSA dog is ready to thwart these threats at a moment's notice.

Humans trip all the time

They also fall a lot too

Slippery floors are their worst enemy; they never bother to lick up puddles

So the only real option us HOSA dogs have is to be vigilant and be ready to act when necessary. I have included a few updates to these signs below, to give you some ideas on what to watch out for.

Well if you won't clean the puddles up I guess we have to catch you...

Us hounds have sturdy backs to catch your uncoordinated bodies!

Never fear human, HOSA dog is here!

But one of the most important things we can do is help a human who is choking on their food. Now a good HOSA dog needs to understand what basset safety researchers refer to as the 'Houndlich Maneuver'. Without this breakthrough technique, lots of hounds would have no way to save their humans. But with this simple action, we can help our people make it through the traumatic experience that is choking on food. The picture below shows you exactly what to do!

See it is that simple! Go HOSA dogs!

September 23, 2011

Famous Basset Hound Friday # 32

Well what a week it has been! We did all kinds of fun stuff! Layla and Breezy already blogged about the waddle so I won't go too much more into it, except to talk about the Great American Basset Races. I tried to race in them but I didn't get to place. It wasn't my fault - there was this really loud, obnoxious dog next to me that totally broke my concentration. I tried to lodge a complaint with the judges but they were too disorganized.

Then, to make matters worse, daddy was snuggling with the wrong hound. My buddy Barnaby moved in on my turf and got lots of belly rubs from daddy.

Who does he think he is?

So I pouted.

Pouting.

Anyway, I got over that eventually and got on with my life. A hound only lives so long and there are lots of belly rubs to be had and naps to be taken. Which brings us to this week's famous hound! I had a hard time picking one after seeing so many cool hounds at the waddle last week. But eventually it came to me: the only obvious hound we could honor given the 14th Annual Basset Waddle.

This week's hound is the Guardian Angel Basset!


We don't know this hound's name but it is obviously an angel with the halo and all. Most of us bassets are angels anyway despite what dumb cats might say. But the GABR Angel is a representative of all the good work the foster parents and basset owners and rescuers and other people who like to waddle have been doing for the past 14 years. Almost 4,000 hounds have found their permanent homes thanks to these guys.

So that's our famous hound for this week!

And here's a picture of daddy and me at the waddle! With our hats!

September 8, 2011

The terrible tri-color twosome

Rosco and Breezy have really been pains lately. Mama has had to yell at them several times for being bad dogs. Especially when she is cooking and Rosco gets in the way. I learned a long time ago that a lady needs her space when she is in her special place. That's why I don't like to sleep on the couch when lots of other dogs come piling up there with me - I need my beauty rest. Well, mama's special place is in the kitchen. I am also more likely to get samples of what she is cooking if I stay on her good side. Her peanut butter cookies are delicious!

Rosco is just a misbehaving child. He likes to shred things like tissue paper, and he is always trying to get into things he shouldn't like litter boxes and trash cans. He also likes to play toss the sock, and he gets hollered at all the time for stealing dirty laundry and running around the house with it. Lately he has been unrolling toilet paper. Me, I like to lay on the couch and snooze. The worst thing I ever do is chase cats and that's only because they deserve it.

Breezy is a high-strung basset. I have tried to teach her how to be cool and snoozy like me but she would rather gallop around the house like a newborn horse and howl at the top of her lungs. She also gets really bossy when I feel like play-fighting and barks in my face. I try and knock her over but with those long legs it can be difficult sometimes. She is also very demanding of mama and daddy when it comes to snuggling and it is just not worth it to try and outcompete her to get some belly rubs.

Neither one of them are any good at walks. Rosco just runs too fast while Breezy usually stops and gets drug behind us. I'm the only one who walks at the right pace. And playtime is the worst - I can't win because they gang up on me. Breezy attacks from above and Rosco tries to bite my legs. Tonight I was playing with my squeaky pig and daddy threw it for me. Breezy tried to steal it but I beat her to the toy. Then daddy chased me and told me to give him that squeaky pig, and I made him run all over the house. Finally I was laying on the couch grooming Mr. Squeaky Pig and then Breezy stole my toy!

I need new siblings.

September 3, 2011

Hound Dog Time

As you may have noticed we missed Famous Basset Hound Friday yesterday. I would like to apologize to all my blogging basset buddies who no doubt lost precious sleeping time as they fretted over how they were going to get through their Friday without learning about another famous hound.

But I have a good excuse. I have decided to start practicing for my singing career. Mama inspired me to write this song, because our parents don't live on the same clock as we do. We have to wake them up every morning to go outside and go potty, and it seems like whenever we really want to take a nap they want us to wake up to do something. We're never on the same page when it comes to baths. Clearly there is a lot of conflict here, and conflict is a great breeding ground for excellent music.

It is a well-known fact that hounds are among the most gifted dogs when it comes to music. So all we really had to do was write a song and it would immediately become a big hit.


So Layla and Breezy and I were laying around the other day when it hit us - we could write a song that underscored the differences between people and basset hound schedules. After a lot of intensive napping and brainstorming we came up with a pretty good set of lyrics. We also had a great tune picked out but it turns out some guy had already stolen it from us. Our basset law firm will be in contact with him shortly but in the meantime we present to you the soon-to-be famous song "Hound Dog Time".

Hound Dog Time
by
Rosco, Layla, and Breezy
The Hounds of Jowls of Fury

We wake up in the morning
Daddy's still in bed snoring
Got to wake him up right
But if we jump up there
And step on mama's hair
She wakes up in a terrible fright

Livin' on hound dog time
Livin' on hound dog time
Mama's not a morning person
So we have to make certain
Livin' on hound dog time

So we stay on the floor
And whine a little more
We try to remember our place
We look over at the door
And dream about the score
Then lick daddy on his face

Livin' on hound dog time
Livin' on hound dog time
It's time to feed your hounds
Get out of bed right now
You're livin' on hound dog time

Then they go to work on time
And we get left behind
To sleep away the day in our crates
Then dad comes home for lunch
And we get snacks for brunch
Then nap with him while we wait

Livin' on hound dog time
Livin' on hound dog time
We're glad you work for our food
But crating us can be so rude
Livin' on hound dog time

When mama comes home sometimes
We greet her with our smiles
And let her give us belly rubs
We know she likes those times
And we don't have to climb
Into her lap to get our love

Livin' on hound dog time
Livin' on hound dog time
We like mama's lap
A good place to take a nap
Livin' on hound dog time

When we go for a walk
We barely get to talk
Our parents make us move so fast
When we get back in the door
We lay upon the floor
And rest up to the very last

Livin' on hound dog time
Livin' on hound dog time
We're wasting our hound noses
We want to stop and smell the roses
Livin' on hound dog time

But car rides are so fun
We enjoy every one
And stick our heads out in the breeze
We pass by all the crowds
And watch them watch our jowls
And wish they were so cool as we

Livin' on hound dog time
Livin' on hound dog time
Our family basset-mobile
Sits up high on all four wheels
Livin' on hound dog time

So at the end of our long day
We always end it the same way
Resting our weary basset heads
We wait for daddy to say
It's bedtime, head that way
Then we get back up on the bed

Livin' on hound dog time
Livin' on hound dog time
Sometimes life can be tough
And usually it's pretty rough
When your parents don't live on hound dog time!

August 18, 2011

Operation: Litterbox

Most of the rooms in this house we dogs own. I don't care what the cats tell you about Cathalla or anything else. When the gates come down the hounds come running. But there is one room that we never get to go in, and we get yelled at the moment we set one of our feet in the doorframe.

The laundry room.

Here is the laundry room

The laundry room is where mom and dad clean their clothes. While I do enjoy a good game of throw-the-sock, that alone does not make the laundry room so enticing. There are noisy machines in there that wash and dry clothes, and the floor is concrete (like our old basement, which was also a room where no dog was allowed to go). This is also the room with the cat food (up on a table, so we hounds cannot reach it).

Dumb ole cats

So this room has several mysteries. But it is well-guarded and difficult to enter, and most of what is in there is even harder to inspect because of how short a time you get to wander around. So we have limited opportunities even if we penetrate the laundry room's main defense - a tied off door.

Basset scientists are hard at work to unravel this mystery

But the biggest reason we are interested in that room is this: litter boxes. The litter box is a mystery to me. Cats do their outside business there, even though they get to go outside every once in awhile. Now don't get me wrong - we certainly don't want the cats coming out and pooping in our yard, chasing our birds and squirrels, or meowing at our neighbors (we have our neighbors trained to run at the sound of our howls - they would probably think we had been put in our place by those dumb cats). I just wonder why they have to go in a box. Then mom yells at dad because he has forgotten to clean the boxes (there are 7 of them, including one that runs by itself sometimes).

A robot that cleans poop - cats are so spoiled and lazy

I have made a few clandestine entries into the laundry room when the tied-off door is open (I used to be small enough to squeeze through until I was caught and then the tied-off door got tighter). I took some basset samples from the litter boxes for the basset scientists but I got caught by mom and dad. Then they scruffed me and yelled at me and brushed my teeth. They said I was a bad dog. I tried explaining to them that it was all in the name of science but they were pretty ticked off. So I laid low in my crate and analyzed my basset spy techniques to improve my chances of getting in and out of the laundry room without being detected. They had soon forgotten about it and I got some belly rubs.

The laundry room is still a mystery, but we are learning things slowly. There is something called a 'water heater' in there - I think it has to do with when they give us baths. Re-entry has gotten pretty hard though - now they have the new gate that we can't knock over PLUS the tied-off door.

All this to guard a bunch of cat poop?

But I'll keep trying. After my nap.

November 21, 2010

The Good Bone Phenomenon

As I write this, Rosco and Layla are currently helping my wife keep the couch from flying away.  Earlier this morning I witnessed what I refer to as the "Good Bone Phenomenon".  If you own dogs you know exactly what I am talking about.

We buy our dogs a few different kinds of chew bones.  Rawhides are nice because they last a long time and are cheap, but you do run the risk that they will eat part of it and have digestive tract blockage.  The dogs aren't always crazy about them, though - a good rawhide needs a few days of half-hearted chewing before it is fully seasoned to basset tastes.  Bully sticks - basically dried cow tendons - are the most highly prized, but they don't last long and stink horribly while being eaten.  Layla also tends to have some intestinal gas troubles when she gets those and we worry about bloat, so we don't get them very often.  They're also about 5 bucks for a 12 inch piece.  Busy bones are pressed chew treats that last approximately 30 seconds and make a terrific mess.  However, any new chew bones are met with a lot of enthusiasm by the dogs, at first.

Until the new bone phenomenon sets in.

We try and buy bones that are similarly sized, because our dogs will give us indignant looks if they feel that they are getting the short end of the stick.  But it doesn't matter.  Any bones that lasts longer than twenty minutes will eventually prompt the 'Good Bone Phenomenon'.  This occurs when one dog decides the other somehow got a better deal then them.  No matter how juicy, stinky, or delicious their bone may appear, they are certain that the other dog is enjoying themselves that much more.  And so they lay on the floor, their partially-eaten bone discarded next to them, coated in a sheen of basset saliva, and they watch the other dog eat what they believe to be the 'Good Bone'.  No amount of pouting can sway the other dog's attention though - our dogs have become masters at the art of bone-eating, to the point of deception and trickery to get the prize.  We could buy fifty bones that were machined to exact specifications, so that there was no significant difference in size, mass, or taste qualities, and there would be one bone among them all that was the epitome of what a chew bone should be.  Wars have been fought over less.

The deception is an interesting part of dog ownership that I never envisioned.  I have always assumed dogs were the most enviable of animals - cute, although lower on the intelligence scale than cats, with heightened perceptions, and a sense of loyalty that few humans can ever aspire to.  The deviousness and attitude were surprises.

For instance, if Rosco has the 'Good Bone', Layla may try to use his jealousy against him.  My wife may be laying on the couch watching a TV show, and Layla will pull herself up from her pouting session over getting the lesser of two bones.  She stretches, saunters slowly to the spot in front of my wife's position on the couch, and lets out a low whimper.  'Love me', this whimper says.  It's soft at first - she doesn't want to rush things - but after a few more tries, both the players in Layla's game are now fully engaged.  My wife, her affections for the dog now running at full capacity, will reposition herself on the couch to allow Layla some room for snuggling.  Rosco, meanwhile, his attention slightly diverted from the 'Good Bone' by Layla's theatrics, will pause for a moment.  Snuggling is a good thing.  Is Layla going to get some?  From Mama?  Without me being involved?  This bone is pretty good, but...  well, let's wait and see.  She isn't on the couch yet.  Back to the bone.

Layla, meanwhile, will milk my wife's affections to their fullest extent.  She might feebly attempt to jump on the couch - her stumpy front legs barely making it to the cushion, making half-hearted attempts to hoist the rest of her body up there.  Nevermind that during the daily basset chase sessions that occur it looks like the dogs are extras in House of Flying Daggers, and appear to be able to jump over the coffee table to get onto the couch - at this point, Layla might not be able to lift her legs high enough to step over a folded washcloth, and jumping the 16 inches to get onto the couch is an insurmountable challenge.  My wife (or I) will give in and help lift her up onto the couch.  After a few moments of rotation and couch-pawing, she settles into a comfortable position.  Layla emits a content sigh.  Never has a dog been so content.

At this point Rosco realizes he is missing out on something big indeed.  Jealousy overcomes how good that bone tastes.  He rushes over to the couch, jumps up on whatever available spot remains, and looks at my wife, his puppy feelings hurt beyond measure.  His wounded heart is about to get another shock, for at this point Layla covers the distance from her resting position on the couch to the 'Good Bone' - left unattended by Rosco - in approximately two seconds, all signs of basset laziness long gone.  Rosco's face at this point is priceless, unable to believe how he has been duped.

This sort of thing happens all the time.  Treats, belly rubs, chasing cats - all things that can grab a dog's attention for a moment, all are used to remove the current owner of the good bone's attention.

All's fair in love and chew bone competition.