Welcome to My Home

Scripture tells us that Christ is the Good Shepherd. The entire biblical story was written for a people who understood the nature and character of sheep. As a knitter, my knowledge of sheep is limited. I consider them to be yarn on the hoof. But, the Lord has graciously translated his story to me in basset hound terms. Why anyone would choose a pet whose top three selling points are that they drool, stink, and shed is beyond me. But here I am, loving the goobers in spite of myself – just like Jesus loves you and me.

The first question that stumped me about writing a book was “Where do you start?” Did the story begin with my first dog when my dad gave me the option of going to kindergarten or getting a new tricycle and a puppy? Or, was it when my first basset puppy tucked his nose into my neck, made a contented sigh, and stole my heart? Do the things learned need to be shared in the order they were learned, or in no particular order at all?

Then it dawned on me. Journeys can only begin from where you are.

So, welcome to my study. It is a bright, cheerful room where pictures of grandkids, memorabilia from 35 years of work at the Texas Capitol, books, knitting projects, and weaving looms surround me. My husband says that my motto is, “Whoever dies with the most yarn wins.” One look around will tell you I am way ahead.

Of course, to get into the room, you will need to beware of the rubber pig, stuffed possum, bully sticks, and yak cheese that litter the floor. And, be especially careful to step around the 75 pound lump of basset hound that is currently sprawled out in the middle of the room, ensuring no one can pass by or move a chair without paying tummy rub toll. (He is a consummate tax collector. If you stay long you will also be charged tolls for him to go in and out, a cheese tax if the refrigerator is opened, and a dog cookie tax for him to get on his bed at night.)

Meet Hieronymus Bedlam Bosch, AKA Harry

He is the current goober in my life and a great joy to my soul.

Harry was one of two basset hounds my husband gifted me three years ago upon my retirement after thirty plus years working for state legislators at the Texas Capitol. As it turned out, the retirement only lasted a year, because the only thing as much fun as a basset hound is mentoring young people in the political and policy world. But the upside is, now my husband is not alone when I work long hours – he has Harry to keep him company.

There had been about a ten year span without a basset in our home and the chaos of Harry and his brother, Barnabus (Barney) Bedlam were exactly what was needed for me to leave politics and public policy behind for a time. Notice that both puppies have Bedlam in their name. It was not intended to be prophetic, just passed down from their dad. But, the Bedlam brothers, they were.

Harry was known as “Harry – hold my beer” due to his tendency to try something new any time you were too far away to catch him. He was the first to master the stairs on the deck, and he was the first to fly off the deck without benefit of steps. But, besides his adventuresome nature, if there were a picture of the word “chill” in the dictionary, it would be Harry.

Then there was Barney who was voted most likely to be sold to the circus. Of the two, Barney exhibited the most perfect physical characteristics of a basset. He was a glorious tri-color, red, white and black. His head was regal, and he backed up his bark with 75 pounds of ears, feet, and muscle. Barney was the more dominant of the two. He had to be in front on his leash, upfront in the car where he could see everything going on, and dominating any interaction with his brother, or anyone else for that matter.

Yarn on the hoof, and other things God made

But this was not my first rodeo with basset puppies. To those unfamiliar with the breed, they had their beginnings in France around 500 years ago. Bassets were bred to be a gentleman’s hunting dog to follow a man through rough terrain on foot. God uniquely created them to be a hunting dog, and each of the characteristics he gave them contributed to the charming, sad-faced appearance we love today.

There is nothing sweeter than a basset nose. They can smell a piece of cheese from the other room with all the doors closed. It is impossible to sneak anything past them because they have over 220 million scent receptors. They are second only to bloodhounds in their ability to track smells.

After their nose, the first thing that grabs your attention is the ears. Yes, they do drag the ground. Yes, they do trip over their ears until they are about a year old. And, yes, they are softer than velvet. But they do have a purpose, and that purpose is not to hear things. When a basset puts its nose to the ground the ears drag along the ground and produce a funnel shape to direct the scent he is picking up into his nose. The wrinkles on his forehead and face help to trap those scents so the dog can stay on task.

Some people attempt to put bassets’ ears up in a snood when they are eating or drinking. Harry and I just have a nightly routine where he gets his ears cleaned inside and out, and then we are both happy. Of course, somedays that nightly routine is in addition to the multiple times he has been wiped down and dried off because getting a drink can be a full body experience. Harry will plunge his nose up to his eyes in a water bowl with ice in it. If you do not have a towel on hand, that is a good time to get out of the way before his drink becomes your shower.

After God made that incredible scent detection system, he put some thought into a locomotion program. Basset hounds are only about 18 inches tall. But Harry is 48 inches from the tip of his nose to the tip of his head. Think shaped like a cube. His legs are about four inches long, but his feet are larger than the palm of my hand. He carries most of his 75 pounds in his large barrel chest. They are the perfect size and shape to track prey through underbrush and brambles. And if they happen to get lost in tall grass, God gave them a beautiful white-tipped tail that they carry high over their backs for their people to keep them in sight.

Today bassets are cherished more as pets than working animals. But that does require an understanding between the owner and dog. Well, the owner has to understand the dog. The dog does not care. While some people consider them to be slow, hard to train, and stubborn, they just do not believe they need your permission to do what they were made to do. Hence, if they catch a smell while on a leisurely walk, they may drag you into the next zip code to follow it. They were not ignoring your demands that they stop, heel, come, or whatever else you blurted out on your unplanned jog. It is just that their ears do not work when their nose is engaged.

It is a lot like people’s ears not working when their mouth is engaged. Know what I mean?