[Dailydrool] "Breed Recognition"

[L.K. Metzler]

I had to laugh about the Basset/Beagle identification problem.  It reminded me of my own little Barney, a pound puppy who was mostly Cocker, a bit of Schnauzer, and some Lhasa thrown in for good measure,  He got the Cocker body shape, size, and general personality, the Schnauzer head and beard, but got Lhasa hair--that horrible fuzzy, easily-matted wooly stuff that hates to be combed.   I usually kept Barney in a sort of modified Cocker cut when I had him groomed just so that he didn't have mounds of hair all over him because he hated to be brushed and would take off for the back forty if a comb were in sight.  Most of the time, though, he sort of looked like a ragamuffin mop dog...a sort of a "Benji" dog.  He was happy that way, and as long as he didn't get fleas, ticks, etc., I let him be.  During the hot summers in the panhandle of Texas, he loved to lay in the kiddie pool up to his chin in water, so I knew he was pretty clean most of the time.  In winter, we did the
 brush and combing bit--all before the invention of the Furminator--much to his great displeasure.  He was a good sport, though, and tolerated this "torture" for nearly 16 years before he went to the bridge.  He was my first rescue dog, and is the reason I now have others.  Penelope, my "Basselope" is mostly Basset with Brittany.  She was my first Basset "experience."   Jasmine and Pelly came along shortly after Penelope "Bassetized" me.
   
  Now, to preface this story a bit more, I must include a bit about my dear Dad.  Dad was an inventive soul, and often claimed that he had an "old Albanian grandmother" who created recipes, brewed home remedies, had wise "advice", etc.  Dad's family was German through and through...not an Albanian in the bunch and certainly none of his European ancestors had ever ventured to Albania (they actually went to Russia), but he kept up the fun about that mythic grandmother.  It became quite a family joke, and whenever we could not explain something or needed to have some kind of "origin" for something, out came dear old "Grandma."
   
  One day I had to take Barney to the vet for his usual round of shots and heartworm test.  We were starting with a new vet after having moved to a different part of the city, so I had the usual paperwork to fill out.  The inevitable "breed" blank came up on the intake form, and I thought I would have a little fun, so I very carefully put in "North American Albanian Weasel Hound" in quotes and went on to finish the form.  (I often called Barney "Weasel"  as a nickname because he could get a bit "weasely" at times, so the name sort of fit.)  I turned in the form and waited for the tech to call us back to the exam room.  
   
  The receptionist took the form, and began to process it, but stopped to ask about Barney's breed.  It was all I could do to keep a straight face and affirm that the information was correct.  She "just had to see this doggie", and stood up and draped herself over the counter to get a better look at him.  Barney was flat out on the floor, sound asleep, looking ever-so-much like one of those wide floor mops that school custodians use to sweep hallways.  
   
  "Oh, he's soooo cute!" she cooed in her west Texas twang.  "I just love his cute little face and that little black nose and all that fur!  Wherever did you get him?"  
   
  Oh, Lord, what have I done now?  This woman BELIEVES this!   "Uh, well....he is the last descendent of my old Albanian great-grandmother's dog that she brought with her from the old country.  He's the very last one...there aren't any more."  Uh-huh, sure she is going to believe this....  
   
  "Oh, that's too bad.  I would really like a dog like that.  Do you think there are any more in, uh, where was that?  Alabama??"  
   
  "No, ma'am...he's the very last one, and he's pretty old."  (Barney was about 10 at the time.)
   
  "How sad.  He sure is cute, though..."  
   
  I was praying she wouldn't think to ask me to breed him to her pet whatever just to get a puppy....  We were called in for our appointment in the nick of time.  Saved by the tech!
   
  -------------------
   
  I have had people ask me about those big black, brown, and white Dachshunds I own while am standing there in my Basset Hound sweatshirt and baseball cap...and one lady was absolutely positive that Penelope was a WELSH CORGI (she's about twice the size of any Corgi I've ever seen!). People see what they want to see and know what they "know."  It keeps life interesting!
   
  Keep up the good fight and educate the world about Bassets!!!
   
   


    L.K. Metzler
San Marcos, TX 
  toppogigio at yahoo.com
   
  "A dog wags its tail with its heart." - Martin Buxbaum 
    "If dogs could talk it would take a lot of the fun out of owning one." -- Andy Rooney 



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