[Dailydrool] Roscoe P. Hunter ATB

Mon Oct 6 05:02:04 PDT 2008

I'm so very sorry for your loss of Roscoe....but what a lovely tribute to a fine dog!  The pictures tell the tale of a well-loved and very appreciated pooch!  He was one lucky fellow to have you in his life.  

Joey ~~ mom to VeeVee, Lucy, Mattie, Sausage, and Lola. 
  ----- Original Message ----- 
  From: Saba2R at aol.com 
  To: dailydrool at dailydrool.org 
  Sent: Sunday, October 05, 2008 1:12 PM
  Subject: [Dailydrool] Roscoe P. Hunter ATB

  The DAILY DROOL
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  entertain and inform basset hounds
  and their people.

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  It's my turn to say this is the hardest thing I've ever had to write.

  On Saturday, September 27, my sweet bagle boy left us.

  He lived a well loved life for 14 years.  Please visit his Dogster page 

  http://www.dogster.com/dogs/600703

  He does have more photos on the photobook second page.

  Also, he is on the 2008 DD calendar April 10, and will be July 28, 2009.

  The P in his name stands for puppy poop.  Self explanatory.  Maw-Maw suggested Hunter as a name, but we all liked Roscoe, so he became Roscoe P Hunter.

  Some of the newer Drool members may not know much about him, because we have been pretty quiet for the past year.  The ole guy slowed down a lot, snoozing mostly, and occasionally pausing during his short walks as if he forgot where he was and what he was doing.  I'm having wonderful memories of his earlier years, however.  My mother (Maw-Maw) gave me a cute Gund bear and, in the impossible way that hounds have, Roscoe somehow got it off a shelf.  He loved that thing.  Once, I put him in the backyard on a nice day, leaving the back door open.  (My neighbor told me I watched him more closely than anyone watches a child). Suddenly I heard screams.  Nearly killing myself getting out the door, I see two college girls taking a walk.  One of them was screaming, "THAT IS THE CUTEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN!"  Roscoe was carrying around his bear in his mouth, something he did until there was nothing left of it literally.  We could go nowhere without it.  I'm not kidding.  He wouldn't budge for a walk without it.  Of course, several blocks later he would drop it, leaving me to carry the slobbery thing home.

  He would do inexplicable things, like stand with his head under the edge of the comforter hanging off the bed, looking for all the world like an old arab man in a Jesus movie.

  For years he was afraid to go down the stairs to the lower level of the house.  The laundry room was down there, and my baby brother had a suite of rooms there also.  When I would do laundry, Roscoe would stand at the head of the stairs, peering down with his ears falling across his face.  Once while engrossed with the dryer, I looked up to see Roscoe standing there.  With a Twizzler in his mouth.  I screamed, realizing he had gotten it from Jon's room.  I raced in there, hoping the basset destruction was not total.  It wasn't - he was only interested in the candy.  He was so proud of himself.

  I could go on and on.  But you all know how it is.  The funny stories.  The craziness.
  I keep realizing how much easier life will be now and already is.  No one has to hear me yell, "WHERE IS HE?" or "WHAT IS HE DOING?".  I haven't had a good night's sleep in 14 years.  If I wasn't making sure the temperature of the room wasn't one degree off - that Roscoe wasn't too hot or too cold - then it was the little piggy snoring in my ear and hogging the "covies".  Angel, his mutt sister, will do whatever we do at whatever time.  But not Roscoe.  You could set your clock by him.  Breakfast time.  Dinner time.  Walk time.  Bed time.  And he would be indignant and irate if you veered from the schedule for any reason.  Tornado....fire....didn't matter.  But I keep thinking of that old Marilyn McCoo song:
  One less bell to answer
  One less egg to fry
  One less man to pick up after
  No more laughter
  No more love..............

  I'd like to leave with this:

  So this is where we part, my friend
  and you'll run on, around the bend
  gone from sight, but not from mind,
  new pleasures there you'll surely find.

  I will go on, I'll find the strength,
  life measures quality, not its length.
  One long embrace before you leave,
  share one last look, before I grieve.

  There are others, that much is true,
  but they be they, and they aren't you.
  And, I, fair, impartial, or so I thought,
  will remember well all you've taught.

  Your place I'll hold, you will be missed,
  the fur I stroked, the nose I kissed.
  And as you journey to your final rest,
  take with you this....I loved you best.
  (by Jim Willis)

  Becca
  Dadslave and mutt sis Angel
  Roscoe P Hunter ATB

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