[Dailydrool] First Basset

[Rebecca Louisa Stanton via Dailydrool]

Our first basset hound was Pumbaa, who came into rescue aged 7 and a half,
in Kent, England, as his family were emigrating.  On our first visit with
him I kissed his head and he jumped straight up at me happily.  He came to
live with us a week later.  Bearing in mind he had lived with his family
all of his life, and was well loved, he actually adjusted very quickly to
his new home.  The only time I ever saw him show signs of missing his old
life was when he saw children. If they went past on their skateboards or
bikes, or stopped to say hello, he would whine a little, as though suddenly
he remembered the 2 children he had lived with, and obviously missed.
Although he loved us, and in particular he became my shadow, he also liked
his own space in the evening time.  Although we encouraged him to stay up
with us in the evening in the lounge, he often preferred to go into the
quieter kitchen and sleep.  Maybe at around 9pm he would get out of his
 basket and wander into the entrance of the lounge to gaze disapprovingly
at us regarding the lateness of the hour.  We would roar with laughter and
pat our laps to encourage him to come over to us.  To no avail.  He would
turn tail and go back to bed, only to repeat the process in an hour or so,
with a slightly sourer expression as the time got later, and we would
finally give in about 11pm and go to bed.  He loved his walks but was also
a devil with other dogs, and got into numerous fights  in the
neighbourhood.   The fights never caused any injury to either side, but he
just obviously liked a scrap now and then.  He particularly hated 2 King
Charles spaniels who lived up the road.  The mere sight of them was enough
to fill him with trembling rage, and I got into the habit of scouring
fields for any potential offenders before he was allowed off the lead, and
at times if we suddenly ran into a dog that he had a bit of history with, I
would have to tear after him  before he went in for the attack, sometimes
having to do a rugby tackle at the last minute!  If the spaniels had been
out before him he would instantly get their scent.  His nose would hit the
ground and he would tear around the field looking everywhere for them.  He
would throw his head back and howl when I came home from work, and
sometimes no noise would come out, but his mouth would form a perfect O.
He fell in love with a little staffy down the road called Dizzy
(reciprocated) and a Parson Jack Russell called Sid (unreciprocated).  He
loved sausages. We took him on holiday with us a year after we got him from
rescue, and had a wonderful week away on the beach, with him tumbling down
sand dunes and being fawned over by young girls on the beach for his long
ears and crooked feet.  He did have very long ears and often tumbled over
them, and one of them was a lacy ear.  He became ill very suddenly just a
few months later, after his 9th birthday.  The scan showed a large mass and
within a couple of days he couldn't keep anything down and was in terrific
pain, being unable to lay down or stand.  The pain at losing him was
indescribable, as we all know.    We still miss our special first basset
Pumbaa.
Becky, Mike, Morse and Pumbaa ATB    pummorse at gmail.com
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