The Basset Log - Part 1

Born Febuary 6, 2007.
Arrived April 6, 2007.

Mitzi Mae Dakota, Tri Colored Basset Hound.

The first weekend spent with this little bundle of joy is over. Underneath her droopy eyes and floppy ears, lies the heart of a poet. A renaissance dog, destined for greatness........... as soon as she learns to poop in the grass.

Friday night went very well. Dog slept comfortably in her travel crate. I placed the crate lovingly at the foot of my bed to give the new arrival a sense of security. It was also in just the right position to allow myself room to safetly leap from my slumber onto the floor (in a matter of seconds) in case there has to be an emergency early hour evacuation of any and all doggie secretions. Puppies under the age of 9 weeks have the bladder control of a 98 year old human male. Only difference is the lone fact that we are (by law) not allowed to place a 98 year old in a crate overnight.

Sleep tally for night 1 - Mitzi - 6 hours, Owner - 2 hours

As i wiped away the sleep from my tired eyes, i greeted the new day with a vigor and excitement only reserved for days that involve gator championships or naked breasts.

Tally, Gator Championships - 2, Naked Breasts - 0

Greeting me me oh so lovingly was Mitzi behind her little locked crate door. Sad droopy eyes looking up and tail waggin as if she was saying, "ok dipshit... get ready." Sheeplishy she emerged from her tomb and into her new home. She looks up at me, i look down at her... and via some kind of Vulcan mind telepathy technique she said.. "you aint ever putting me in that fucking cage again". You see, 8 week old puppies are smarter than 37 year old men. We see cute and cuddly, they see sap. They know who will eventually rule the roost. She had me hello. Through out the day, the new head of household had me picking her up and carrying her outside, praising her with "good girl" in a high pitch girl voice, that i know all the neighbors heard, just for squatting and relieving herself on the grass. If i would get that kind of praise i would have been doing it years ago.

That was saturday... very fun. All involved absolutely loves (except for Frankie the rat terrier) the puppy. I leave confident for the party at 7:30pm. There were 3 people to puppy sit for me. Puppy will be crated when my sister retires for the night, I will arrive home take puppy to potty, and then escape into the bliss of sleep.

On my arrival I go into the bedroom…. Crate door open…. No puppy. I begin looking for Mitzi.
On the couch asleep is my sister…. On the love seat sprawled out is my nephew. Laying beside my sister almost appearing to be pushing her off the couch is Mitzi, dreaming whatever it is puppies dream about… probably world domination. I wake Brenda and she seems pleased that I have arrived home. I thought she was relieved that I arrived safetly after drinking most of the night. She tells me that she put Mitzi in her crate… the crate that all the websites say is the dogs little sancuary… and as predicted, began yelping. Brenda tells me she just couldn’t leave her in there so she took her out. I send Brenda to bed… poor girl, rings under her eyes. She did look very uncomfortable sleeping on half the couch and giving up the other half to an 8 week old dog. She is weak… she gave in to the puppies demands, I have read all the experts, they say ignore the puppies cries. I am confident my plan will work. However, apparently Mitzi has never read those articles on the internet.

The Michael Jordan lead Chicago Bulls played the Cleveland Cavaliers in round 1 of the 1994 NBA playoffs. Guarding Jordan was Craig Ehlo. Ehlo is easy to spot. He is the poor soul in all the commercials and video clips of Jordan driving in front of the key and lofting a jump shot, scoring the winning basket. Ehlo hits the floor head in hand as Jordan pumps his fists at the slient, stunned Cleveland fans.

Ehlo did a valiant job guarding Jordan, the leagues best player. Ehlo lasted through Jordans onslaught for 60 minutes until being deflated by that final legendary shot. The shot that caused an exhausted Ehlo to crumple to his knees…………………………………………. I lasted for 20 minutes.
Bassets are known for a couple of things. Howling being 1 of them. Mitzi made the calculated decision to practice her howling on Saturday night. The experts can kiss my ass… IGNORE??? I lifted the pitiful crying and dejected puppy from her "sancuary" and placed her on my bed. After a few minutes of wimpering she slowly crawled up next to me and placed her head on my shoulder. She became silent. As I began to drift away, I swear I hear her whisper in my ear… "we both know who the boss is… don’t make me get medival on your ass"
Sunday night Mitzi was not placed in the crate… once again she slept on my bed. This morning I awoke to her small puppy teeth lightly chewing on my finger. That was my que. My master needed to be taken out. I followed her instructions to the tee… wearing my blue robe I stood in the crisp early morning chillness, and in a high pitchied girlie voice I utterd "good girl… shes a good girl Mitzi"

And I cant wait to get home so I can do it all over again :)