This one was brought into the house as a 6-month old pup by the Handsome Cowboy. He held her out to me and all I could say was, “What’s that?” I said it with disdain in my voice no less. You see my 14-year old Basset Boy Dillon had just passed away the day before. I was heart-broken and a mess to say the least.
Handsome Cowboy had heard that I had lost another basset hound (Dex) in surgery years before. At the time I was living with my mother and she was told that one of the best ways to heal a mourning heart was to get another dog as soon as possible. My mother surprised me by taking a drive out to a basset hound breeder where I chose my pup Dillon. (He was twice the size of his siblings and was bopping one on the head with his big ‘ol paw when my heart first melted.) Dillon is also a character in my children’s book LUCCI THE NO SMOOCHIE POOCHIE.
I know Handsome Cowboy meant to help me but I was given absolutely no time to mourn the loss of my beloved boy. I looked at her and said, “You found a 6-month old at a puppy place. What the heck is wrong with her?”
“Well, she had a bad case of worms,” H.C. replied. Oh great, not only was I not given a chance to mourn, I was not given a chance to pick my own dog, and I was not given the chance that every basset owner dies for…to have a teeny-weeny droopy-eared spotted pup trip over her ears every time she runs! (Just think Elizabethan-collared dog who gets caught in the grass when it runs but with a basset pup it’s the ears that get ’em every time.)
(A shot of Star? Nope, I got a wormy 6-month old but I couldn’t resist showing you a basset hound puppy.)
“Donna, she had the same markings as Dillon and acted so sweet that my eyes watered up. I couldn’t leave her then because it was as if she was meant for us.”
A few hours later, after watching her play and appreciating that she did indeed look an awful lot like Dillon, I realized that Handsome Cowboy was right. Star was meant for us, and soon she would fit right in…and I mean right in.
For instance, Star chose to share the bed right away. She does this thing I call ‘The Steamroller,’ where she climbs the steps to the bed and proceeds to march up my body and plop herself down on my chest. This is a pre-sleep move; she gets lulled with ear rubs, plows under the covers next to me, drops her head on the pillow, lights out. She does this while watching TV too (Please excuse the goofy pj’s. I’m *clears throat* years old and I still wear Winnie the Pooh!)
We lived in South Florida when we first got Star but fast-forward to now to meet the Texas country girl. We all love it out here; however, Star is really in her element and has blossomed. She rolls in the hay, digs in the dirt, and sleeps in the sunshine.
My whole purpose for moving out to Texas was the possibility that I could have ‘livestock.’ Correction, livestock sounds business-like; my purpose was to have bigger critters on which to dote. So, we got our three little Boer goat kids, Daisy, Dixie and Dot three years ago this month. Well, soon after Star began acting like a goat. If the goats ate leaves Star would try to eat leaves. If the goats got grapes and carrots, Star only got carrots once I realized that she’d take the grapes and hide them all over the house.
Star really bonded with the kids.
Now, a few years later, you’ll still find Star wherever the goats are…unless she’s in the house.
Then, you’re more likely to find Star flopping out cold somewhere. I’ve got a bad back so I use a heating pad a lot, and I’ve got to fight the dogs off to get at it. Here’s Star with our little dapple doxi Luca…he is such a Mommy’s Boy!
See those things all over the floor? (I swear that’s not dirt; the lighting’s weird!) Yes, my house is lined with dogs beds all over the place but when I tell star to get on her dog bed, she’ll look at me as if to say,”Dog bed? What dog bed?” Go figure they’ve all got me wrapped around their paws and hoovies!
Thanks for stopping by. Enjoy your weekend and give the little and big loves in your life tons of SMOOCHIES!
Oh nuts; I left something important out and that is to ask you all what stories do you have about a pet who might think he or she is something else or at least really relates to another species? I know you’ve got ’em and this newbie blogger apologizes for not including this question in the first place. Go ‘head; you know you want to!
Donna L Sadd 