[Dailydrool] Bassets in the snow

[Hinchliffe at aol.com]

I chuckle at everyone's stories of how their bassets  like/don't like the 
snow.
 
I don't think any basset has ever loved the snow as much  as my Duchess.  
She adored it.  Lived for it.  Wallowed in  it.
 
First, she loved to eat it.  She would stand  outside in fresh snow and 
just eat and eat and eat, as if it were own private  ice cream parlor.  You 
know how bassets have mastered the art of being  selectively deaf?  She did 
when she was out in the snow.  She became  almost mesmerized by eating all that 
fluffy whiteness.  I think days could  have passed and she would still be 
there, slowly and deliberately eating her way  across the yard.
 
Second, she loved to maneuver in it.  I think of  Debbie's description of 
Elder Clara "motoring" around.  Duchess would motor  through the snow.  She'd 
shove out that huge chest and just blast a path  through.  She was great in 
the early morning  -- she'd clear a  basset-width path out the door to the 
driveway while I followed behind, saving  me a little shoveling.
 
Third, she loved to just be outside in it.  This  dog, who never liked to 
be awake for more than a few minutes at a time, could  stay awake 
indefinitely when she was outside.  I remember one morning in  particular.  It was 5 
degrees.  Five.  Fahrenheit.  She  would NOT come in.  I'd call, plead, 
reason, bribe.  Nope.   Finallly my Dad took one end and I took the other (guess 
which one I got --  "she's YOUR dog," my Dad said) and we put our shoulders 
into pushing all 75  unmovable pounds of frozen bassetness toward the front 
door, while her  reproachful red eyes accused us of spoiling her fun.  She 
never even  noticed that her teeth were chattering so loudly we could actually 
hear  them.
 
There's little as pathetic as a basset with chattering  teeth.
 
Then, one time we had an ice storm on top of the  snow.  Duchess climbed up 
on the lawn to "use the facilities," and then  discovered it was frozen 
solid.  I can still picture her as she just stood  there and then in exquisite 
slow motion started to slide inexorably down the  incline, across the lawn, 
toward the street.  She didn't move her body to  try to stop it, but turned 
her head and looked at me over her shoulder, those  resigned basset eyes 
saying goodbye.
 
(She ended up unceremoniously dumped off the lawn at the  side of the road, 
and by the time her slide had ended I was already there to  catch her.  
Adventure for the day done, she waddled back in and slept until  the ice 
melted.)
 
Hugs to all bassets -- snowy or not.
 
Beth H. (Duchess ATB and Blueberry ATB)

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