Posts Tagged ‘basset hound’

Heartbroken Hound

July 29, 2011

When Alpha Dad woke me up this morning and asked if I wanted to go to the P-A-R-K this morning, I leapt out of bed and ran straight for the shoe bin.  I’ve been a good boy– I’ve kept the bagel that I’ve been saving for Cassie there all week, and only licked it a couple of times.  I conceal the bagel in my closed mouth so that Alpha Dad won’t see it, and follow him out to the car.

We arrive at the P-A-R-K just as the “No Dogs Allowed” time begins, but I can’t read and neither can the other dogs.  Besides, I’ve never been much of a rules person.  Across the parking lot I spot Cassie walking with her Alpha Mom.  Her Alpha Mom is carrying a frisbie!  Ordinarily, I would rush over to sniff it, but my mouth is too full of bagel to do so today.  Instead, I walk slowly across the parking lot, doing my best to come off as a dignified gentleman.

“Wff!” I attempt to greet Cassie, but it comes out a little muffled.  Cassie doesn’t seem to hear me.  I begin to wabbit run across the parking lot.  I simply can’t contain myself any longer!  I roll dramatically to a stop in front of Cassie and drop the bagel at her feet.  “Woof!” I announce triumphantly.

Cassie eyes the dripping bagel cautiously.  She gives it a little sniff.  C’mon Cassie, pick it up, it’s for you!

“Cassie, come!” orders Cassie’s Alpha Mom.  I’m starting to think that Cassie’s Mom is the Alpha Mom of all Alpha Moms.

Cassie pushes the bagel back toward me with her paw.  “Woof,” she says softly.  Thanks, kid, but I don’t want your doggy bagel.

I sit in the grass, dumbfounded.  Suddenly, I’ve lost my appetite for the bagel.  I watch Cassie and her Alpha Mom proceed through the dewey grass.  I want to take a nap right there by the parking lot, but Alpha Dad is calling me.  I turn to glance at Alpha Dad just in time to see a huge great dane jump over me!

“Arroof!”  Hey, buddy, who do you think you are?  I’m trying to catch some zzzz’s here!  The great dane ignores me, and I watch, horrified, as he runs straight toward Cassie.  “Ahhrooo!” I howl, Look out, Cassie!  But the great dane slows down when he reaches her.  He greets Cassie’s Alpha Mom, who scratches him behind one of his ears.  And then he gives Cassie a gentle nuzzle.  She licks him back.

I can’t believe this.

And this is not over.

Digging for Treasure: Teen Sister Edition

May 8, 2010

I was home alone.  I was bored.  And Sister Martian’s backpack was so tempting…

At first, I was enchanted by the smell.  It was a delightful blend of a half-eaten turkey sandwich and the zing of soda.  The backpack was unzipped, and I figured that it was my responsibility as Sheriff Bluepaw and the Assistant Protector of Bagels Everywhere to investigate. 

As I discovered, backpacks of teenagers are treasure troves for basset hounds.  Within seconds I had uncovered a blue rectangle with a screen and lots of buttons (which I later learned was called a “cal-Q-later”), as well as a few sheets of paper with scribbles all over them.  I gnawed on the cal-Q-later for a while, but soon realized that the paper with scribbles was much tastier and I demolished that instead.  I finished off my snack with the remains of the turkey sandwich that I found rotting beneath some books.

For some reason, Sister Martian was pretty irritated with me that evening.  She was up really late making funny-looking scribbles on a piece of paper.  (Personally, I think she would have been better off getting some beauty rest, an activity that I have found quite rewarding.)  And you won’t believe this: even though investigating her backpack had been my duty as a loyal basset hound, she was upset with me for eating something that I have never heard of- an “essay-due-tomorrow!”

%d bloggers like this: