[Dailydrool] Elsinore Basset's Ninth Anniversary

[Elizabeth Lindsey]

On Thursday we celebrated our Elsinore's ninth anniversary with us. We met her in a Cracker Barrel parking lot outside Huntsville, Alabama on March 27, 2004 and decided to take her home to be our Jane Basset's successor. Jane had died on July 25, 2003. 

Elsinore has indeed been Jane's worthy successor, and we remain grateful to Basset Hound Rescue of Alabama for entrusting her to us. 

We're guessing Elsinore is about 12 or 13 years old now. Her eyes are cloudy, her face is starting to grizzle, and her coat is showing more and more white in odd places, like the tops of her feet and her shoulders. She's sleeping more than she used to, and her sleep is deeper and now marked with heavy breathing and even snoring. She also isn't as agreeable about waking up when she's not ready to, sometimes turning into a growly girl who can say some truly unpleasant things. But when she's up and at 'em, she has the energy level and enthusiasm of a 7-year-old. She can keep up with us and then some. She still sings and dances and bosses me around, especially when she feels it's time for an afternoon snack. 

We've had a new development with her this year. She had another UTI in early February, during which time we stopped putting her in her crate at night so she could wake us up if she needed to go outside. About the time it seemed the antibiotics had taken care of the infection, she somehow buggered her back. So we continued to leave her loose at night because it seemed she was more comfortable that way. But then her back and UTI appeared to be all better again, so we put her back in her crate. 

Since the episode with her back, Elsinore hasn't been as eager to be inside her crate. She'll hop into it as a signal to me that it's time to give her a snack and then hop out again once she's gotten the requested treat, but often when I ask her to go in her crate before I have to leave the house, she'll be as uncooperative as possible. Yet, she absolutely has to be in her crate when we're gone because we must set the alarm. 

We live in an urban neighborhood with burglars that have a reputation for setting dogs loose before they start going through the house, which means a person then has to hunt for a lost dog as well as lost belongings. At least, though, they're not just shooting the dogs; a loose dog stands a better chance of recovery than a shot dog. Our thought is that if the dogs are in their crates, not only are they not inadvertently tripping the alarm, they're also an obvious nonthreat to burglars, so there should be no perceived need to set them loose for the burglars' safety.

We also like to keep the hounds crated at night so we know exactly where they are in the event of needing to leave the house quickly in the middle of the night. Contractors have discovered enough interesting wiring in this old house to make me nervous about fires. So Elsinore and young Charlie are crated at night. 

But then shortly after we went back to crating Elsinore at night again, she started barking between 1:00 and 4:00 a.m. to go out. It was usually me who wound up stumbling bleary eyed out to the back entry to let Elsinore out in the back yard. She was always eager to go out and did indeed take care of things pretty quickly after reaching the grass. Then she'd come inside and want a drink of water and a nap on one of the dog beds in the living room, but I'd make her go back to her crate.

Three long weeks of this. Arrooff! Arrooff! Arrooff! Every. Single. Night. 

We were starting to wonder if the UTI had really been entirely knocked out.

Even though Ken wasn't doing much of the actual getting up and letting out, he was still getting tired of it. One night he suggested we try not crating her and seeing what happened. If she still came in to ask us to let her out, then a trip to the vet for a recheck would be warranted. If not . . . So we didn't crate Elsinore that night, and she slept the whole night through. We didn't crate her the next night or the next, and she continued to sleep--and to let us sleep--without interruption.

Okay. Now we know. Our old lady is a master manipulator and has done her predecessor proud. 

When we first got our late Jane Basset, the compromise we worked out was that Jane could be a house dog (like I'd grown up with), but she'd sleep in the basement at night (as a substitute for a dog house out in the yard, like the dogs Ken'd grown up with). That worked for about three weeks. Jane had a bed and blanket down there, and it was plenty warm, but she didn't have us. She let us know she missed us by whining, howling, and then finally just bellowing at the top of her lungs all night long. When Ken let her out of the basement in the morning, she'd eat her breakfast and then settle down for the day on her bed in the living room to catch up on the sleep she hadn't gotten that night.

We did not have that luxury, however, and by the third week of this Ken and I were beginning to resemble the walking dead when we were at work. I'd been ready to let Jane sleep in the living room from the beginning, but I knew the decision had to come from Ken if he was going to be on board with it. Finally he'd had enough and released her from the basement in the wee hours of the morning. Before he went down to the basement, I stressed that once he gave in like that, it'd have to be forever or else she'd just ratchet up the complaining because she'd know it'd worked once and so would probably work again. He said he understood, and Jane slept in living room for the rest of her life. Without a peep. As her worthy successor now does. Uncrated, as she's requested.

I suppose one could consider this our anniversary gift to Elsinore, though it really feels more like a gift to ourselves. Deep, uninterrupted sleep is a beautiful thing. On her anniversary Elsinore also got a peanut butter carrot cake and a walk that allowed her to visit with the crew for ABC's "Nashville" TV show, which periodically films one block over from us. There are a lot of dog lovers on the crew, and Elsinore and Charlie always get good attention from them. That night she slept on the dog bed next to my side of the bed. As anniversaries go, I think Elsinore would say she had a pretty good one.

Elizabeth