Posts Tagged ‘belly rub’

Sweet Dreams

July 1, 2011

I spend lots of time sleeping, which means I also spend lots of time dreaming.  Usually I imagine I’m snatching a hot dog or a steak, but as soon as I’ve knocked it off the kitchen table I wake up.  But today I had one of the most incredible dreams ever:

I was at the P-A-R-K with Alpha Dad.  The grass was green and dewey, and I rolled in it for good measure.  There were all sorts of dogs at the P-A-R-K, and I frolicked with some golden retrievers.  When I glanced back for Alpha Dad (even in my dreams, I like to make sure that he hasn’t wandered off and gotten lost), he was deep in conversation with my friends’ Alpha Parents.  I figured he could keep himself occupied for a while, so I started to trot up the hill… and that was when I saw her.

She was the most beautiful dog in the P-A-R-K.  She was slender for a basset hound, with long tan ears that dangled gracefully to the ground.  Her tail wagged a bit when she saw me, and I waddled toward her, thrilled and petrified all at once.  She turned to look at me with her big brown eyes, and I couldn’t resist–I ran up and licked her.

Just then, her Alpha Mom called to her from across the P-A-R-K.

“Cassie!  Cassie, come!”

Cassie!  Ah, if only I could speak!  Cassie, Cassie, Cassie is her name!  My tail was wagging uncontrollably and I was drooling like crazy and then, to my horror, Cassie turned and glided obediently back to her Alpha Mom.

And then, of all the inconvenient moments to wake up, I was pulled back into reality.  Brother Pooch was trying to give me a belly rub, but all I could think about was my stunning new acquaintance.

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A Patient Hound

April 24, 2010

It’s Friday and as usual I am sitting on the stairway landing, staring out the window.  Technically, I am not allowed up the stairs.  But I’m not on the second floor yet, so I figure that the landing is a nice compromise.  Through the window I can see my neighbors’ front yard and the sidewalk.  I couldn’t care less about being sociable to my neighbors, but the sidewalk is of great interest to me in the evenings.

I have a powerful internal clock.  For instance, I know that exactly 9:30 p.m. I go to bed and at 12:05 a.m. I wake up for a drink of water.  I know that in exactly two minutes Alpha Dad should walk up the sidewalk.  I lay down on the landing and wait.

When I’m waiting for Alpha Dad to come home, two minutes is a very long time.  I count the seconds by thumping my tail against the wall.  One, two, three.  I lose count of the numbers- arithmetic is no interest of mine.  I’ve heard that patience is a virtue, but I know that basset hounds don’t need virtues, whatever they are.

Cat scampers down the stairs behind me.  It’s not fair- how come a fat and rude creature like Cat is allowed upstairs and I’m not?  The injustice of this all distracts me for a moment, but soon my focus is back on the sidewalk.

Sure enough, there is Alpha Dad walking up the sidewalk.  I rush down the stairs and to the back door, which I scratch with my paw until Sister Fairy lets me out.  I pounce out of the bushes just as Alpha Dad opens the gate.

“Woof!” I say, jumping on Alpha Dad.  My internal clock informs me that it is time for my a belly rub.

Bluepaw

April 6, 2010

Many of my fans are probably wondering why some call me “Bluepaw.”  Here is the story…

When you have a sense of smell as acute as mine, you pick up fascinating odors all over the house.  For instance, cell phones give off a pleasant metallic odor (and they crunch nicely between your teeth).  Malt balls have a distinct chocolatey scent that can even be detected when they are hidden in plastic Easter eggs.  As I discovered one day, pens also have attractive scents.

I was lying in the middle of the living room.  None of my family was around, and truth be told, I was one bored hound dog.  I caught the scent of ink, and soon I had dug through the magazines on the coffee table with my nose and located a pen.  When you have massive paws, removing the cap of a pen is a little tricky, so I gripped the pen between my paws and chomped.

Eventually, I got sick of chewing on the pen and left its remains in the middle of the living room.  I wandered through the house, going about my business.  You know, sniffing Cat, snoozing, watching the squirrels in the neighbor’s yard, and snoozing.  Eventually, my family returned and Sister Fairy bent down to give me a belly rub.  I rolled over, but she caught one of my paws.

“Woody,” I recall her telling me, “your paws are blue!  What have you been up to?”

I looked at my paws in horror.  What indignity!  A Basset Hound with blue paws?  I would never live this one down.  I tried to lick the ink out of my white fur, but it was too late.  The ink was dry.  Since then, “Bluepaw” has become a sort of nickname for me around the house.  It’s not like my siblings have never gotten ink on themselves!  But everyone seems to think it’s funny when a Basset Hound dyes himself blue… but that’s the story.

Treasure Hunting at the P-A-R-K

March 30, 2010

I was out for a trot at the P-A-R-K when I caught a whiff of the most incredible scent!  I buried my nose in the grass and followed the trail to a chicken bone rotting on the ground beneath a bush.  I lay down beneath the bush and began chomping on my treasure.  Unfortunately, just as I was starting to devour my delicacy, Alpha Mom called me from the path.

It’s not every day that a hound dog comes across something this yummy.  I couldn’t just leave the bone until the next morning.  What if another dog found it?  I grimace at the thought of a poodle taking my chicken bone.  This left only one solution: I would have to take the chicken bone home with me.

I heard Alpha Mom approaching from behind me.  For some reason, she doesn’t share my enthusiasm for buried treasure.  But this chicken bone was special and I wasn’t going to let her take it from me!  I gulped up the bone and managed to bury it in my mouth.  The bone didn’t quite fit between my teeth, but I figured it wouldn’t matter because the bone still fit inside of my cheeks.  With the bone safely wedged in my mouth, I spun around and ran back toward Alpha Mom.

Alpha Mom reached down to pet me, and I thought that I might be lucky enough to get a belly rub right here in the middle of the P-A-R-K!  Unfortunately for me, Alpha Mom had her own agenda.  She pulled me toward her and placed her hands on the sides of my face, just behind where I was sure the chicken bone was safely concealed.  Alpha Mom pulled her hands forward across my cheeks and out popped the chicken bone!  I have no idea how she saw it.  I mean, I guess my cheeks must have looked pretty funny with the bone wedged inside, but I thought I had been pretty sneaky hiding it in my mouth.

Here’s the good news: Alpha Mom made me leave the chicken bone behind in the P-A-R-K, but I’ll bet that tomorrow I can get back on the scent and find it again…

Family Movie Night

March 26, 2010

Friday nights are one of the best times to be a Basset Hound.  On Fridays, my whole family comes home for dinner and then we watch a movie in the Living Room.  Well, I don’t actually watch the movie, but I like to sleep in front of the television because I can always count on somebody to come over and give me a belly rub.

Whenever Alpha Dad picks the movie, we can always count on a Western.  Lots of noisy guys run around the screen on horses, disrupting my beauty sleep with their gunfighting.  But what I dislike the most about Westerns is that there are never any Bassets in them!  I suppose my fellow Hounds aren’t exactly built for the desert, but it would be nice to see Hollywood have a Hound sleeping on a porch or riding in a covered wagon.  As a true Arkansas Hound Dog, I would much rather watch a “Southern.”

Even though the movie selection is rarely good, I can always count on one of my siblings to bring Big Blue down from the attic.  Big Blue is the biggest, stinkiest, warmest sleeping bag ever!  The whole thing is coated with dog hair, and everyone knows that when Big Blue is in front of the television, it is my territory.  Sometimes, when the movie is really awful, I role over onto my back and fall asleep that way, a surefire tactic for getting a belly rub.

But the very best thing about Family Movie Night is the popcorn!  Alpha Mom makes terrific popcorn and puts a large bowl of it on the floor.  It’s like drivethrough, being able to walk by and snatch a few pieces when nobody is looking.  Once, I accidentally knocked over the bowl, and Alpha Mom attacked all of us with a monster called “Vackyoom.”  So I try not to spill the popcorn anymore.

Someday, I would like to be a Hollywood Hound.  I could have my own trailer and Milk Bones delivered to me on set.  I could star alongside  screen favorites like Winn Dixie and Marley, or maybe even Lassie!  And maybe I could be in a romance with a cute Lady Hound…


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