Tiger in my Garden

Butter's bark is not a bark in the same way that a tiger's roar is not a miaow. It is a deep, dark and serious event that makes the neighbors close their windows and lock their doors.

Not...

Butter knows this because she loves the sound of her own voice. She staggers the frequency in morse code that spells out  'I - know - I - am - irritating - you - try - make - me - stop - REPEAT'. This is normal conversation for her. The rest of the pack will 'whuff' and 'whoof!' and leave it there knowing that they got my attention.







Butter stops once you bark louder than her. Which is probably why the neighbors don't talk to me. They cannot bark at all. 

Done...

 

Yet...

 

Hounds of the Delta Quadrant

If the Bassets were on the Federation Starship USS Voyager, the crew would not have minded that the journey home could take forever and a day.

Captain Katherine Janeway would have been particularly fond of the lowdown crew members and would have super doggy beds replicated and installed on the bridge. Who does not need four hooligans shouting 'We're gonna get us some alien postman ass!!' when the photon torpedoes are flying and smoke coming out of every  console on the bridge?

The Bassets would have liked Neelix  - he certainly would have always been ready to cook up some bone shaped biscuits. Neelix's hapless customers could have inquired what the Bassets had or lunch before dishing up for themselves. Even Mr. Vulcan (Lt. Tuvok) would have seen the logic in this - having four superior noses distinguish between hazardous flavors and those that can be safely consumed.

The Bassets would have been as vital as tricorders on every away mission on any planet surface. Just imagine how many lives could be saved if the Bassets could smell danger before anyone had to press a tricorder up against it.

Tom Paris would have taken Nougat on every Holodeck episode of Captain Proton because she is fast and curious and could easily fly with a little rocket attached to her back. She would try to befriend all the villains except for those who are cat lovers.

The Doctor would have insisted on Butter's presence in sick bay so that she can cheer up patients with the white tip of her waving tail or bite their ankles when they squirm or complain.

I'm pretty sure that Horton would have assisted Seven in keeping her workspace clean and efficient. No one is better at producing a huge quantity of drool at a moments notice and then absorb it with his long ears.

And The Bofa? He'd be looking for vermin in the Jeffreys Tubes all day long - except when there is some Alien Postman Ass to be gotten. 

Rickie Lee Jones

If Bofa was a Rickie Lee Jones song, his name would have been Chuck E. Easy going and swanky like nightclub Jazz.

He is never sorry, never apologizes for anything he tried to get away with. He has never cringed when I reprimanded him, he shouts back in body language and sound like some flower child offering humor and peace amid turmoil.

He has never fetched a ball, nor does he run around with squeaky toys. His amusement is hidden in tall grass when he goes lawn snorkeling and in hopping around the lounge on beds  and the green couch encouraging the others to chase him. He is loud, verbal, fast, slow, busy, at peace. He is Chuck E.

Washcloth Face

Washcloth Face - To sleep so well that the furry skin on your face sticks to the side of your head and takes a while to slide back into position.

When sleepy, Nougat, at the age of three, still has a need to use my feet as a pillow and my legs for protection like she did when she was a pup. She'll eventually relocate to one of the beds when either my feet or the floor becomes uncomfortable.

You can see when Nougat is really tired, the pink spots on her nose turns bright pink. When she sleeps, she sleeps well. When she wakes up, which is not as easy for her as the others, she is groggy and ill tempered and suffers from washcloth face. It is not uncommon for her to lunge into attack if she is asleep and approached from the wrong side by someone trying to tiptoe past her. This moodiness was probably learned from me. My nose does not turn bright pink and I do not need feet to sleep on, but good luck to you if you wake me up at the wrong moment.

Puppy Nougat safe asleep in Grandma's arms.

The boys have adapted and came up with some ideas to protect themselves if they run into problems at night. In winter it is not uncommon for Nougat to climb into bed with anyone (except Butter, but more on that later) she thinks has the most body heat to offer. The moment she curls up and sighs you can see the discomfort of the original occupant. Bofa will complain with a long groan but will refuse to leave the bed. Horton however, is nervous from the start and does not move or make a sound. At most he'll give me a long plaintive look. Once Nougat is asleep, the original occupant of the bed is not allowed to move lest he be assaulted by the moody bitch who took over the bed. I'd often be awoken a few hours later by a soft continuous whimper uttered by Bofa or Horton. It is then my job to get up, talk softly to Nougat and rub her belly so that she'll wake up feeling safe and relaxed and whoever, Bofa or Horton can finally breath or stretch or scratch and get out of that bed as fast as possible. And The Nougat? She will groan, sigh and go right back to sleep.

The Claiming of the Couch.

The Bassets have cousins who's humans are my sister and brother in law. The cousins are minute little miniature Dachshunds who can almost run underneath a Bassets without having to duck, therefore it was quite easy for mom and dad to accept their presence on the bed, chairs and couches. I knew that if I did not stand firm on this it would spell disaster for me. Like they say,  a careless once off  'Yes' to a Basset is a free pass for all eternity. Thus in our house and every where else we went beds and couches were off limits unless it was bought in a pet shop.

cousin Mambo

Cousin Salsa

Cousin Rumba

Unfortunately, Bofa does not stand for anything unfair. The cousins are allowed on our furniture since they are our guests, they're used to it and it is an easy way to prevent them from being trampled in a Basset stampede. Numerous times when they came to visit Bofa would come to me and bark at me with those 'explain this to me - you're so unfair' sounds he manages so well. It starts of low and deep and ends in almost a yelp.

fighter for justice and defender of the green couch

After the nth visit he had enough. He took the couch. Claim staked and dusted for all of Basset kind, for everyone and anyone who ever wanted to slouch but never had anywhere to do so.

Tomato Thieves

Butter taking the weight off her stomach

Like I said, there is always an instigator when there is mischief afoot. Plucking green tomatoes when I have my back turned was Bofa's idea. I don't mind them grazing amongst the small cherry tomatoes, but the big ones, and green, are stomach killers. Try to take it away and the Basset becomes a speedy Basset hastening away with the prize. Attached, a photo of Butter after she had 3 (if the little heaps of tomato salad she left on the lawn are anything to go by).
Don't worry. I did supply the meds to make the tummy ache go away.

The Water Cooler Conversations

Like corporate employees, the Bassets also have conversations around the water cooler. In our territory an old dilapidated birdbath serves the purpose. Normally I am out of range of the psychic chatter this involves, which is why I always assume that the gossip is about me. However, on this particular day, it was about the unspeakable thing Horton did that morning - steal breakfast and not share it.