My big day

Today was a very eventful day.  Dad took me to the vet's this morning.  I was initially very excited to go for a car ride, but I was less excited when I realized it was to the vet's.  However they didn't hurt me too badly, only drew a little blood and then let me go home.  All the young pups here were very jealous that I got personal time with dad in the car.  We napped in our crates until lunch, when dad came home and let us out.  Normally he gets his lunch and goes back to work, and we only get a few minutes out of our crates to do our business.  But today he stayed home and ate lunch with us, so we got to sprawl on the floor and on the couch before going back in our crates.

Mom beat dad home today and she sat out on the porch with us.  It was a really nice day out, very sunny and warm and breezy.  When dad got home we got to go to the dog park!  I ran around and barked at everyone, and made sure to sniff lots of things.  Many people gave me attention but more than a few of them commented on my health issues.  I always have thought that was rather rude of people, and it makes me self-conscious of my appearance and it really takes away from the enjoyment of the dog park.

Later, mom and dad told me that the blood draw this morning turned out OK.  The vet said I am healthy enough to go through surgery.  They said that tomorrow the vet is going to remove some of my lumps and make me more comfortable.  Dad said he will put me to sleep (not that bad kind of putting to sleep - I made sure I understood dad very clearly and that the vet was not going to put me to sleep permanently, I still have a lot of bassety things I want to do and I am starting to like my new home).  Once I am asleep (just temporarily) they will do surgery on me.  I will wake up with a few stitches but lots less tumors, and I will go through a recovery period.  Then I should be good as new.  Mom says I will be like a 'new man'.  I wonder...

I wonder how many years they will take off me

And lastly, today is National Dog Biscuit Day.  We celebrated by getting a new bag of treats tonight.  I liked mine but to be perfectly honest I am a little worried about tomorrow.  I haven't been to surgery since I was a pup and got fixed.  I am not the young strapping hound I once was, and I hope that everything goes OK.  Especially now that I have a couple of special lady friends - I need to come back in good shape so I can take them out to the dog park and show them a good time.  Their names are Sadie and Maggie, we met at the Cyberhound.  

So if you happen to have a moment to spare please cross your paws for me tomorrow.  I will have dad write about me once I come home.  Thanks to everyone who has supported me and my surgery, we really appreciate it.

So... I will see everyone when I get back.

Famous Basset Hound Friday # 44

It's so good to be back on my paws again! I had a really rough week last Friday. I did not feel so well and got sick in my crate. I felt horrible because while daddy was cleaning it up I got sick in the other room! Whatever I ate did not agree with my hound tummy, which is weird, because normally I try and eat everything that I can. So Layla did a Rescue Me post instead, which is just as good as Famous Basset Hound Friday. That way another hound might find their forever home!

But back to the Famous Hound part! This week's is a good one! We have known this hound for quite sometime now, and it's high time he got to be a Famous Hound. His name is Bowser! He is just a puppy! He can be a real maniac sometimes! But he writes his own blog and it is hard to read sometimes because he is still working on his spelling. He must not have a great typer like daddy! Bowser gets to play with his toys every night and he has a routine that must be followed no matter what. He was also one of our first basset GQ models! And he lives with fish! Although I think they are not really fish, because I have seen fish at the pet store and they don't look like this. But it's OK! We are very forgiving of mistakes with our Famous Hounds! Bowser makes me remember back when I was just a pup, full of energy and vigor! He loves his mama just like me! And he's our latest famous hound!

Heeeeere's Bowsah!

I hate sweetgum trees

I see that many of our blog followers enjoyed the sexy basset spread the other day! We were glad to see so many people happy to check out our hounds, especially our rescued hounds. However it almost didn't happen! I was just getting ready to blog that night when a terrible thing happened to me!

I went out in the yard to do my business so I had no interruption while blogging about all our sexy hounds. I was so excited about that blog that I had to romp and run around the yard. Well, I stepped on something hard and knobby and it really hurt. I stopped immediately so I could inspect my paw and make sure it was OK, and I realized that whatever it was had stuck in my foot! I wasn't happy, because it was my bad foot on top of it all. So I slowly limped back to the house, worried that my injury would prevent me from honoring our sexy hounds. Rosco and Breezy had already got inside, and daddy was hollering for me to hurry up (he is so impatient sometimes!). I finally got in and daddy realized I had hurt my paw. I bet he felt bad for rushing me. He better have.

I was so worried at that point, because beautiful hounds like me don't like to be laid up waiting for their paw to heal. I certainly did not want to visit the vet again, after my last two experiences. So I laid on my back so daddy could check on my foot and fix it and hopefully rub my belly afterwards. Well, I may not have mentioned it before but daddy is a doctor. He's not a vet kind of doctor though, he studied lizards or some silly thing - this was all before my gotcha day so I don't know the details, Rosco can tell you sometime - but he knows enough to fix feet I guess, because he pulled the thing out. Then he showed it to me and said 'Layla this is a sweetgum ball, they come off trees. Mama and I hate these things.' Well I hate them too, I'm the one that had it in her paw!

The culprit fruiting body

So I decided to educate myself so I know how to avoid that problem in the future. It turns out sweetgum balls are horrible things and sweetgum trees are hateful, terrible plants that exist to drop stupid little spiky balls all over a hound's yard and make it nearly uninhabitable. A sweetgum tree can drop lots of these stupid little things! And they persist for a long time. Daddy explained to me that he and mama set the yard on fire not too long ago (that was another terrible day, they wouldn't let us out of our crates and the yard stunk and was all black afterwards) to get rid of dead leaves and other stuff, but the sweetgum balls were still there. Upon learning this I asked daddy to chop the tree down, but he explained that it was in the neighbor's yard and we can't cut it down. So I have decided to step lightly in my own yard and bark at the neighbor at every opportunity for having such a dumb and basset-unfriendly tree.

And these keys are way too small!

But I might be a little too dramatic here. My foot was OK after that and daddy gave me a treat for the trouble I went through and told me I was beautiful and that I would be OK. That calmed me down, and then he said 'Layla we have sexy bassets that need our attention'. And then we wrote the blog!

But I still hate sweetgum trees!

Long winter's naps are the time to strike

All the dogs have been ranting about how great grandma's house is. What they forget is that us cats were visiting grandma's long before there were any dogs. Well there have always been dogs at grandma's, but those dogs at least stayed at grandma's and did not require us to travel in a small cage with the potential of cat vomit looming for 10 hours.

Yes this dog was big and scary but at least he didn't follow me home

Now at grandma's there is an upstairs, a downstairs, and the floor that the dogs live on. Unfortunately the dog floor is between the two cat floors, so you literally take your life into your own paws to go from the sleeping room to the pooping and eating room. This makes it difficult if you are a true cat hero like me and refuse to fraternize with those god-forsaken dogs like some of my cat siblings.

That is one kid and three dogs too many

What is a cat to do? Well, if you are a smart cat like me, you sleep under the bed or in the basement and wait for the dogs to take a nap. Then you come upstairs and scowl at them very ferociously, and mentally let them know how lucky they are that you are feeling benevolent and have decided to let them live another few hours. Then you hastily make your way up the stairs, squeeze your beautiful cat body through the handrail posts that some idiot built too close together, and scamper beneath the bed to sleep the sleep of the just.

You don't know how lucky you are dog

A late Merry Christmastime

We have been gone for over a week, and it's time to get everyone updated!

We spent a big part of Christmas up at Grandma's house in Michigan. We saw Max and Maggie again, and also Griff and Remy and a new dog named Tinker. Tinker didn't get to run with us because she was tied to her car (her mama is afraid she would be too aggressive but she seemed fine to us - she had a thick fur coat and a really good howl, almost as good as mine). Now as you may recall, I did not always get along with Max and Maggie. However, I decided to try and be a good puppy cousin this year and have a good time. As it turns out they were much better behaved. I only had to howl at Maggie and Max every once in awhile. If Max tried the puppymaking game I threw him to the floor.

This happened a few times. I really am that smokin' hot

Now I still did not like Griff - he is such a big lummox and he runs into everything and his tail is like a furry wrecking ball - so I had to howl in his face quite a few times. Oh well, that's just the way family is at Christmastime.

Imagine this in motion, not a pretty sight

We had a white Christmastime, sort of. We got snow the day before and we had to go out and pee in it. Layla and Rosco thought the snow was great, while Max and Maggie didn't seem to care. I guess they are used to it, but I am a Missouri Hound at heart, and we do not do well with snowpacolypse, or whatever Layla calls it.

So... you're not going to carry me out there?

You expect me to pee WHERE?

But the highlight of the Christmastime was definitely the kids. I met the kids earlier this year - you might remember me and Miss Ashlee played basset princess and her personal chauffeur - and we got to see them again. The kids remind me of the good parts of my old home, the parts where I got to play with kids and chase them and protect them from lummox dogs like Griff. I did my best to protect everyone from everything but I am only one dog, and I can only do so much.

I couldn't protect everyone; Drake was OK but Ashlee got slobbered on

Another upside to the kids is that they are short and they drop food all the time. In fact we got lots of treats at Grandma's, way more than we do at home.

All you had to do was be patient

They didn't always eat everything and a patient dog got the goodies

I was starting to think about staying there forever but then we had to get in the car and go back home. Now the long car rides are not my favorite thing. I don't like to be jostled when I am sleeping and between the bumpy road, the packed car, and the lummox brother and sister I have, I got barely any sleep. Plus the cats - yes all five of them - were in on this car ride and I had a hard time sleeping when they needed to be constantly monitored so they didn't get out of the crate.

These conditions are horrible

That reminds me, Grandma's has other cats too. They are different from our cats and they also need to be closely monitored and possibly chased. This one cat named Maisy looks like a furry Ottoman that ran into a brick wall. She makes lots of noise and I tried to chase her a few times, but dad always stopped me.

If you don't keep them in line they get all Terminator on you...

Anyway... back to the car ride home. As I said, I did not enjoy myself, but mama's car ride home was even worse. She was really sick. Now normally when I get sick the best thing to do is try and have a treat and go lay in my crate for awhile. Well, mama didn't want any treats and the only crate had 5 cats and a litter box in it. So she toughed it out and rode most of the way home sitting up, but finally daddy told her to lay down in the back so she could get comfortable. That opened up the front seat for me, and I got to be the co-pilot!

You're doing great, but keep your eyes on the road

A co-pilot's job is making sure that daddy doesn't speed or hit anything, and not to let any slow dogs pass us by. I did my best but you can only do so much with such poor raw material.

I think that Shar-Pei just flipped us off

Floor it daddy we need to leave him in the dust!

Anyway, once we got home, mama slept for a long time and daddy went to the great-grandma's house for another Christmastime. I stayed home to make sure that darn Christmas Pig Monster stayed in the yard where he belonged. I thought I heard daddy come home later but it was just the neighbor, or possibly another Christmas Pig Monster joining forces. But no. Just the neighbor. Then the next day, daddy came home, and he brought my other grandma and grandpa with him! I was so excited to have someone else to lay upon!

Grandpa's lap is a pretty good place to take a nap

See what a beautiful bunch of ladies we are? And then there's Rosco...

Well we were all having a great Christmastime when who should appear at my doorstep but Evil Uncle Casey. I sprang from my bed to bite him and howl in his face, but his heart grew three sizes that day and he decided to make up for his earlier transgressions by giving us all a treat. I was suspicious at first, like maybe he had poisoned it or something, but Layla and Rosco wolfed theirs down and they didn't die or anything. So I ate mine and decided that Evil Uncle Casey was going to be known from then on as Not Too Bad Uncle Casey (until he screws up again).

So that was my Christmastime! Hope everyone else had a good one.

Famous Basset Hound Friday # 37

Man what a busy week. Well for mom and dad that is. We mostly slept in our crates, chased each other around the house, barked at the neighbors and their dumb cat, and ate our food. But dad and mom are busy working. Dad keeps getting ready for waterfowl season, whatever that is. It means he is going to be getting up really early for the next 60 days to take care of duck hunters.

Anyway. We got some rain this week and that was OK - it made the yard all muddy which was fun to dig in, but that only got us in trouble. We also got in trouble for doing a little counter reconnaissance while mama made cookies today. It's really unfair to make such good-smelling stuff and then not let us hounds sniff it and eat some. But as soon as I came into the kitchen I got hollered at and sent to the other room. I even got sent to my crate today for investigating the litter box room and collecting more samples!

Oh well. At least I have Famous Basset Hound Friday today! And this week's hound is a newcomer on the famous hound scene! We found out about her while Google searching each of our names to see if there were famous hounds with our names, and sure enough we found one. This week's famous hound is "Layla Jane Basset Extraordinaire".

The hound of the moment

Layla Jane is a hound who promotes spay and neuter awareness. This is important because it keeps extra basset puppies from being born and not having good homes. Layla Jane is also a hound who likes to eat bugs like our own Layla. We even call our Layla 'Layla Jane' sometimes, but usually when she is misbehaving or trying to eat cookies from the counter. Layla Jane Basset Extraordinaire is also sassy like our Layla Jane - her latest Facebook post says 'Basset hounds don't have to squat when they pee... bonus!'. Well it's true, but I like to squat when I pee so I can take off like a rocket when I'm done. That's just how I roll.

I should also mention that when you search for 'Rosco' you get TONS of famous basset pictures, but it's actually Flash. Rosco was the human's name. Flash is the important one. There is another famous Rosco but he spells his name differently than me. But that is for another week.

So that's our latest famous hound!

I am not speaking to daddy right now

He is a big jerk. First he made me throw up the other night. I didn't know people could do this to us hounds but he found a way.

There I was, innocently chewing on a tasty treat he left laying by the fireplace. It smelled nice and smoky and yummy, and it was soft and chewy and it had a little plastic wrapper around it. The perfect thing for a hound girl to munch on at the end of her day.

Well when daddy saw I was eating that he went all nuclear on me. He yelled and told me no and said I was a bad girl. He made me go to my crate and I heard him cleaning it up. Then he and mama made me get in the bathtub. Bathtub means bathtime - but I was already pretty clean and they didn't turn the water on, so I was a little confused. Well daddy held my mouth open while he made mama put this stuff down my throat.

Now I know mama was doing this against her will because she wouldn't do that sort of thing to me. Daddy is the one who administers medicine and gross stuff. I wondered what the medicine was supposed to do because I wasn't sick or anything. He left and mama watched me and made me stay in the tub. I was pretty confused at this point and then it hit me - daddy had poisoned me! My stomach started gurgling and I started to feel sick. A few minutes later I was retching and throwing up my dinner, right there in the bathtub! Mama had to leave the room and daddy came in and watched me get sick.

THEN it was bathtime. He scrubbed me top to bottom and told me this wouldn't have happened if I didn't try to eat fireplace starter logs. Well, don't leave good-smelling treats like that laying out if you don't want me to eat it!

I was ready to forgive him this morning, but he got up really early and left us in our crates without giving us breakfast. That is a really good way to get on my bad side. When he finally came home he gave us our food and asked me to lay on the couch with him. I turned my backside to his approaches - I would have rather laid with Nibbler at that point - but eventually the warm blanket was too much to resist, and I felt like maybe I should forgive him. We had a nice nap and he rubbed my ears and my chest and told me I was pretty. Of course I already knew all that but it is nice to hear it, and we had made up.

Then later on he started to move the furniture around. He made me get off the couch and pushed everything into the other room, and made us all get in our crates. I swear he wants us to live there! When we finally got let out the living room wasn't all that livable - nothing to lay on in it anymore, and the only interesting thing left was paint and stuff. But of course us hounds weren't allowed to sniff this, we got herded outside and left there for a long time. When we finally got let back in, straight to our crates we went.

Um where did my couch go?

See what a slave driver he is? We FINALLY got to stay out for awhile, but of course with the furniture like this what good was it? And when we were outside barking at the neighbors he yelled at us to be quiet. We didn't get any scraps at dinner either, just our kibble. It's like daddy WANTS me to be angry with him.

How in the world am I supposed to live like this?

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!

Enough with the baths already

There have been two days of terrible occurrences. First we had to have baths last night. I hate baths. The soap gets in my eyes and the houndish smell I work so hard to maintain goes down the drain along with my hair.

What did I do to deserve this?

Then today dad took me to the vet (after leaving us in our crates while he met some company - he said it was to fix the air conditioner but the air felt pretty conditioned to me). The vet picked me up without even asking my permission and told me I was beautiful - well thanks but kindly keep your hands to yourself mister! Then he stuck things in my ears and left. I investigated the room while he was gone, searching for a weapon of some sort or a possible escape route. He hit me in the behind with the door when he came back in and said I had infected ears. Then he washed my ears out. I hate that even more than baths, all that squishy stuff in my ears and the wetness and everything. To top it off he squirted medicine in them and told dad he would have to do that twice a day for the next week.

The next vet that touches me is going to get a very stern staredown.

Stupid TV Commercial Sunday # 25

Let me start off by telling you this: I am in a bad mood. All of us cats got stuffed into a dog crate today and carted off in the car. The dogs were in there too and crybaby Nibbler was freaking out whenever they would look at him. He got so worked up that he puked all over and when there are 5 cats in one crate and one of them pukes it's bathtime for everyone.

Stupid Nibbler. Stupid crate. Stupid car, I don't care if it is all for a good reason.

Speaking of stupidity...

Please... stop singing.

Weird Word Wednesday # 15

Hello blog readers. I decided to take over Weird Word Wednesday this week for Beaker because I am starting to feel a bit better after my operation. As some of you probably already know I went in to get "fixed" on Monday. Dad left me at the vet's which was scary, and then they knocked me out with gas. I woke up confused and sore and really sleepy. At the end of the day dad came and took me home but I was so tired he had to carry my inside and put me in my crate. I ate a little bit of food and then I just slept. I have a sore spot on my tummy and I can't run or play or anything. At least I get good snuggles.

Anyway, this week's word is "fixed". I don't know what needed to be fixed on me - nothing was broken. But I had to go to the vet's - dad said it was to avoid me having tumors later in life and also so I didn't have any puppies. Well I guess the vet said it looked like my insides once had puppies in them - I already knew this but dad and the vet were pretty clueless (the puppies were at my other home, the one that gave me up to my forever home). That's why I always whine when I hear squeakies, they sound like puppies to me. I hope my puppies all have good homes. I don't like to think about them because I don't know where they are, so I guess it is a good thing that I can't have any more. At least I am in a good home now even if they do take me to the vet sometimes.

I didn't need to be fixed, I wasn't broken. I think they should use another word for what they did. Either way it wasn't fun but I guess it had to be done and now it's over. But on the upside I get lots of treats and attention when dad comes home now. I will just try and let the past be in the past.

The vet strikes again

Breezy went to the vet today. At first I was upset this morning because I thought she got to go for a car ride without us, but when she came home she smelled like the vet's and I knew I had dodged a bullet. No more vets for me thank you very much. She got her lady parts operated on and I remember how much that hurt when they did mine.

At first she just slept but then the drugs wore off and she woke up and was in pain. She has been pretty good about it though and hasn't tried to lick herself - probably hurts too much to lean down there. She got a whole bowl of moist food - I sure didn't get that when I got operated on. It isn't fair.

We aren't allowed to play because dad is worried she might try and play with us. It's not my fault she went and got taken to the vet's! And she isn't even wearing a cone of shame! I had to wear one when I went to the vet's. I even heard dad say we might all sleep in our crates tonight. What did I do to deserve that?

The vet's really stinks! It ruins it for everyone!

Triumphant Return Thursday

Good news loyal blog followers! We're back!

Yes, we were down for awhile there. The cats removed our ability to blog by unplugging our internet. We had all kinds of blogs typed up about stupid fat cats, famous basset hounds, and fun walks. Then they pulled the plug on us. We were so lost! Rosco tried to get back upstairs and plug things back in, but his paws were too big and he was smacked in the snout by McBoobs. Dad won't let us chase the cats for too long so we were all herded back downstairs without internet.

Clearly the cats planned their takeover well. Most of our days we spend in our crates while dad works, and the cats have free reign of things. He didn't realize how the cats had tricked us, since he's been so busy lately. Our thoughts were pretty low during that time - Breezy cried a lot and Rosco just wasn't his usual self. I was feeling pretty sad myself. Then I hatched a plan.

I knew our basset friends would be worried about us, and I got the feeling that they were rooting for us. Plus I knew that McBoobs is really terrified of me, and that he was the glue that held those silly cats together. So our task was pretty simple: catch him alone and bark at him until he ran away and hid under the bed.

We finally got our chance today. When dad came home, he let us out to go potty. We did what we had to do, and when we came back in, I waited to eat my dinner until I had figured out where Nibbler was. I had only a moment's chance and I took it - I ran after him and watched his McBoobs flop from side to side, scaring him under the bed. I barked at him really good and he whimpered and whined for a bit, then stayed under the farthest part of the bed. I went in by the internet and plugged it back in, then growled at him to remind him who was boss.

My dinner kibble has never tasted so good.

Anyway, we chased all the cats for awhile to reinforce the fact that the dogs are running the show again. A few of them are under beds or up on shelves, but we left Korbin alone because he got Rosco some votes for his photo contest.

Whiskers of Fury is no more, and Jowls of Fury is back!

That's more like it!

This has been a stressful month

My month has not been very fun. I keep thinking I am having babies and that makes me mean to my brother and sister. Rosco just backs off but Layla wants to fight me and that only makes me angrier. Mom and dad have had to separate us and my crate got moved all the way across the room. Now I am by myself in my crate and I can't see Rosco or Layla. I even had to spend a few nights in my crate while Rosco and Layla got to sleep in the bedroom with mom and dad because of my temper. Plus my appetite has left me, and all the toys that squeak sound like lost babies to me. I would go looking for them but be unable to find them.

I was pretty upset about all this.

But the false pregnancy thing is starting to go away. I don't feel as mean anymore and I don't think I am going to be a mommy to any puppies anytime soon. My appetite has started to return (especially when they put gravy on our food, that is delicious!). The weather is nice again so we can all lay out on the deck together and get some sun.

But with warm weather comes my most hated enemy: lawnmowers. They scare me. Even when it's the neighbor's lawnmower it makes a ton of noise and it runs around the yard chopping up grass, and I know it is going to hurt me or my parents. I whine a lot and shake and cry and try to hide from it until it is all over.

May can go away for all I care.

The howling guardian

Well I have been living here for over a week now so I guess this is my new home. I am still getting used to it, but I am starting to like it here. I hardly remember my old house very much. This place is pretty nice too. You get lots of treats here if you are willing to 'sit' or 'go to your crate' for them. The 'shake' one is still a little confusing, but Rosco and Layla seem to have it down.

Speaking of Rosco and Layla, we still are not the best of friends (I get the feeling that they are best friends and I am still kind of the outsider), but we are playing together sometimes. One of the games we play is toy keep-away. It goes like this: we get one of our toys out of the basket (my favorite toy is the squeaky sheep) and run through the house with it, while our parents (that still feels a little weird) chase us and try to take the toy away. It's loads of fun! Rosco and I fight sometimes, but I mostly try and defend dad from Rosco (he bites really hard and I'm sure it hurts, but I howl and guard my dad). Layla and I haven't played too much but she isn't quite so mean to me anymore. Hopefully we will become good friends. I have also been snuggling with Rosco from time to time when we nap, but usually he and Layla lay together and I take the armchair.

Another nice thing about this house is all the soft stuff to lay on. There are couches and beds and dog beds everywhere, and this really nice blanket that is super-fluffy. It really helps me with my naps.

Tough being new

Hi, my name is Breezy. I'm new here and let me tell you it is tough being the new girl. Ms. Layla doesn't like me very much. But at least Mr. Rosco is nice to me (mostly - he does bite at my face when we get treats sometimes and he doesn't like me to get lovins'). The only thing is he is very rambunctious, and I am not too sure if I want to play so rough all the time. But I am starting to feel a little more at home here. I let them hear my howl and the people calling themselves 'mom' and 'dad' seemed to like it. The cats all ran and hid, but cats are sort of a new thing for me (and there certainly are a lot of them here). I'm not sure if I'm going to stay here or not, even though the 'dad' person says this is a 'forever home'. It sounds nice but it's tough to know what will happen next. I guess if I do stay here I would like to be friends with Rosco and Layla.

I still don't know exactly what happened to me though. I lived in another house with other dogs until very recently, and then Mr. Rosco and Ms. Layla came and met me at the park and I thought we might just go for a walk together. The next thing I know I'm in a stranger's car and they take me to their house and I stay the night there. The 'dad' person sleeps on the floor with me which is kind of nice - I got to sleep with more hounds like me and I didn't have to sleep in the garage like I'm used to. Still, I'm thinking OK, surely my family will come and get me the next morning. Instead I got put in a crate for most of the day and let out a few times until the mom/dad people came home and let me out. I'm still pretty scared at this point but they seem nice (although I get hollered at for something called counter-surfing. Well, don't put such good smelling food up there!). Oh and the 'dad' person gave me peanut butter on a spoon! This place can't be that bad if you get that sort of stuff here.

So tonight we went for another walk and I got to smell the neighborhood and see all the dogs. This is a very doggie neighborhood and everybody barks at you. I just had to open up and howl back. Right now I'm laying on the couch and not feeling too bad. There's also a little girl who lives behind the house that likes us a lot. I guess I could get used to it here but what a whirlwind these last few days have been!

The case of the missing sister

My sister disappeared the other day. I was very upset. She got to go for a car ride without me, and I'm pretty sure she got to go for a walk too. I got put in my crate, and she, mom, and dad left the house. I threw a fit but it didn't help. Mom and dad came back with her after awhile and she smelled funny, like the vet's office. Maybe I dodged a bullet?

Then the next day dad took her away early in the morning. I didn't see her all day until the evening, and when she came home she was really tired and her foot was all wrapped up. She really smelled like the vet then, and like something else sort of familiar. It's been awhile since I was at the vet but I do remember being left there overnight once and waking up after a long sleep. Parts of me hurt and I had to take medicine. I also didn't get to play for a little while. It's been so long ago I can't really remember for sure, but I know it wasn't fun. So I guess I can't be too jealous. Before the vet her foot had a big spot on it that smelled strange and needed to be licked (we got yelled at for that, even at night, our parents can be real pains!). So I guess maybe that's why they took her to the vet? All I know is I can't wrestle with her anymore without getting yelled at. Sometimes she wears this silly cone thing, and dad even put our collars on the other night so I know it's serious. They don't let her run or anything, and she keeps getting the medicine treats.

Vets ruin the lives of basset hounds, I don't care what owners say. Every time a pet comes home from the vet there are more rules and less fun.