Posts Tagged ‘sister fairy’

Who Says Bassets Can’t Crochet?

July 8, 2011

Sometimes, it gets a little boring being a basset hound.  My family goes outside to garden, and I’m left inside with only the cat to keep me company.  (I’d rather have no company at all, she’s really bosy.)  So the other day I figured I’d take up a hobby.  After all, each person in my family has a hobby.  Brother Pooch likes to practice playing his vavuvalawawa.  Sister Fairy bakes cookies, which I am sometimes lucky enough to snatch.  Sister Martian likes to drive the car into the garage– she does it all the time, but I’ve never been able to figure out why she likes to do it so much.  Alpha Mom sings, and she’s pretty good, especially when she sings about the lion that sleeps tonight (I can sympathize!).  However, I like Alpha Dad’s hobby best of all because his hobby is giving me attention.

Anyways, I was lying in the middle of the living room with nothing to do.  And all of a sudden I noticed that there was a ball of yellow yarn on the coffee table right in front of me!  I remembered how Sister Martian was… crocheting?  Is that the word? …this morning, and I thought, “If she can do it, so can I!”  I couldn’t find that funny metal stick thing that she was using, but I figured if I just gave the yarn ball a good chewing, my teeth could be just as efficient.

As it turned out, I was really talented at this crocheting business.  Before long, I had covered the entire living room with yellow yarn!  I figured, why would an adventurous basset hound want to take on a small project when he could take on a big project?  I made sure every inch of carpet was yellow, but I still felt like my project was missing something.

And then I had the most incredible idea.  There, on the coffee table, was a blue metal object.  It looked a little bit like a computer, except that it was much smaller and instead of letters it had numbers on the keys.  But most importantly, it was shiny!  I jumped as high as I could and knocked the device onto the carpet.  I gave it a few good chomps and spread the pieces around the living room to adorn my crochet project.  I knew my family would be impressed!

Sure enough, when Sister Martian walked into the living room later that day, she stared at my creation for a really long time.  I think she was awstruck by the force of beauty before her.  And then she told our Alpha Parents to come and have a look, and they stared at my project for a really long time, too.  Before long, my entire family was standing in the living room, admiring the work of their talented hound.

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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.


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