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<blockquote type=cite class=cite cite=""><font size=3><br>
When I met my wife, she had a basset named Hooter. From the first, her
attitude was "Love me, love my dog.". I've never doubted once
doubted that. Fortunately, I've always liked dogs so that wasn't a
problem. Hooter was full of Bassitude and quite an intro to
bassets. He would probably have been a candidate for OEBE, that's
for sure! We had "issues" mostly because I didn't
understand the basset - slave dynamic. </font></blockquote><br>
Hey, Michael. My husband has the slave thing down pat. Out Basset girls
aren't as demanding as they could be (but when Molly wants a cookie, she
wants a cookie!) -- but those Jack Russells? He hand-feeds our female --
she's Daddy's little shadow, and I swear, it's like she's connected to
him by a 6-inch cord. <br><br>
<blockquote type=cite class=cite cite=""><font size=3>Incidents included
finding him on the table one birthday, </font></blockquote><br>
Davey (our first Basset, ATB since 1998 and missed as if he left us
yesterday) loved tables. You'd walk into the dining room and there he
was, on the table looking out the window. He used to sleep on the picnic
table in the back yard -- with his butt hanging off the edge. We had the
Christmas tree on a table, to keep it out of harm's way (funny -- we
never had a problem with the dogs and the tree until that particular
sweetie entered our lives), but all we did was make it easier for Himself
to get to look out hte front window.<br><br>
<blockquote type=cite class=cite cite=""><font size=3>with his face
buried in my cake, </font></blockquote><br>
Emily has a bad habit of stealing the pizza crusts I save for our
parrots. We had three disappointed birds (one of whom was yelling
"Pizza! I want pizza!" as soon as the pie was delivered) last
night, because when I turned my back, she pulled the plate off the
table.<br><br>
<font size=3>For all the annoying things they do, it's so worth it -- the
love they give us is far greater.</font></body>
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