Hounded

Having four XXX long eared charges has its dangers. Habits rub off. Eventually you'll become hounded and not even know it. It is almost like being grounded - if you add a good dash of confusion and social awkwardness to it.

If you walk past a pet shop and see toys and want to burst into spontaneous barking: you're hounded.

If the food you add to the Basset breakfast and dinner looks better than your burnt boxed pizza: you're hounded.

If you cannot read your colleagues because they do not lift their eyebrows in a quizzical fashion or cock their heads when you ask nicely: you're hounded. 

If, in spite of the rules and agreements, you visit and wake up in a bed that is not your own and the first thing you see is Basset butt: you're hounded.

If you walk in your own house and lift your feet up high with each step even when there are no bodies to step over: you're hounded.

If you have a bad dream and wake up facing several pairs of nostrils and raised eyebrows: you're hounded.

If you oversleep and are woken up by a fat wet nose because you might miss breakfast: you're hounded.

If a Basset whines and annoys you and you whine back in frustration: you get it. You're hounded.

If Nougat says she just saw Janis Joplin drive past in a multi colored Porsche with Elvis in the passenger seat and you go 'Whuff?': you're hounded.
If Horton insists that there was a Blue Hound Dog on the back seat and you know that the 1965 Porsche 356-C Cabriolet did not have a back seat: then, human, dog days are upon you.