You have to realize, if you've never heard me talk about my dog, Wait! No. Not my dog, not my dog, not my dog.
If you've ever heard my talk about my husband's Basset Hound, you'll hear the disdain in my voice. Spanky comes out a lot like Seinfeld would say, "Newman....."
I even researched the dumb thing before we went to get him. The breed standard states that they are stubborn and strong willed, especially when following a scent of something. They often overeat and a few articles I read said they do not posses the thing in their brain that tells them to stop eating. Ella once wrote a first grade research paper about Bassets and she simply wrote, They don't have a thing in their brain so you have to take their food away. I think she got it right. Not a thing in their brain.... This dog don't know simple commands, he don't always know the difference between outside and inside, he don't know what shut up, go away, come here, get off the kitchen table....
You really want to eat at my house now, huh?
This dog eats carrots, peppers, socks, Barbies, dollar bills, packaged dry oatmeal, deodorant, blankets, any kind of garbage that may or may not smell like gravy, raw potatoes, pretty much if it has mass and is defined as matter, Spanky will eat it.
Zane Doll from One Direction, you sig annoying
boy band songs no more.
The research also says they're loyal to their owners. Problem here. Spanky thinks he's mine and Ella's... He follows Ella everywhere and he insists I pay all my attention to solely him first thing in the morning and each time I come home from anywhere, even if it's from the mailbox. Five minutes and the dog acts like I was never coming back.
He likes to play head games, too. He's like the annoying little brother. The second before you lower your butt into a chair that Spanky clearly saw you head for, he jumps up and curls himself into a comfy little Basset ball. He pretends to sleep when you call his name. You know he's listening because the tops of his long ears perk up and he twitches his nose all the while keeping his eyes shut and not moving a muscle.
I had just lifted up his ear and screamed in it.
I'm sure he'd be extremely emasculated if he knew I was telling y'all this, but sometimes when he lifts his dwarf like fat leg to pee, he loses his balance, falls over and pees on himself.
I only wish I had a picture of him doing that,
Despite all the bitching I do about the squat little chap, he's provided our family with more laughs than frustrated moments, so for as many times as I say I'm shipping him to the place in H-E-double hockey sticks, I guess we'll let him stick around.
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