Imagination

The weather lately has prevented me from absorbing enough solar power to achieve much. My energy must be saved to use on such important endeavors as putting my two front paws up on the couch and looking around the room at each human with my "I can't get up eyes" until someone lifts me the rest of the way, nesting, going upstairs to nest, and spelling bees. (I have been searching the garden everywhere for these so-called "spelling bees" and am convinced Hannah is making them up.)

It's hard to blog about your life when reports of your day include: "I was in the kitchen having a snooze when a head of lettuce was dropped on me", or "I was just sitting there by Mum when a piece of squash was dropped on me"; it's embarrassing. Instead I call on my imagination.  

 

Fred Basset Friday

Wordless Wednesday

Fred Basset Friday

Wordless Wednesday

Cuddling Hounds

Gromit & Clifford

snuggling in a warm bed on a cold morning

My New Christmas Collar

It's coming on Christmas and I have been a good boy. It's that time of year again to fa-la-la the hall and jingle bell the dogs, so today Clifford and I got new Christmas collars. (Claire already has a snazzy holiday collar, which she put on today too.) I feel so festive I don't even need any eggnog.

(And lastly, slightly over-exposed,
but Mum and Dad think I look so cute here it doesn't matter.)

Do Your Ears Flip Flop?

Fred Basset Friday

Home again, Gromit

I am home from spending the night at the veterinarian's office. It was no fun at all! Thankfully Mum and Hannah came to see me in the evening and brought me my chewed up fox skin and some blankets from my kennel. One really smelled like Mum (I think she wore it for a while), and that made me feel so much better.

I have the flu, or something funky in my tummy. They gave me antibiotics, and I have to eat a special diet for two weeks. It's so good to be home, back to chasing my brother and sister around, and attacking lame ducks who lay about on the floor.

Wordless Wednesday

Dad's Handsome Boy

 

This is a picture of me (and my sister Claire) taken back in June 2010. Both my magnificent ears and my earnestness (as we all know bigger ears indicate greater earnestness) really express themselves here. This is why Dad calls me his special handsome boy.

Today I am a sick boy. Dad brought me to the vet this morning because I wasn't well; I threw up all my kibbles in the night. All of my tests have come back clear, but I seem to have some kind of infection so I am on an intravenous antibiotic drip. They'll also be doing a barium x-ray to make sure I don't have any duck parts, ball pieces, rocks, or squirrel tails in my belly.
Mum and Dad are very sad about me being away for the night because they love the way I love them, and want me near them always. :(

Fred Basset Friday

Thinking

I spend an extraordinary amount of time thinking about things. Some people believe that Bassets are lesser thinkers, but they couldn't be more wrong. And it's not just about food; I ponder some of the world's biggest problems from glottogony, sorites paradoxes, quantum mechanics, abiogenesis, P versus NP, do perfect cuboids exist?, and no matter how often I study the Twilight series with our twelve year old I still haven't solved the Cullen primes problem of infinity.

Imagine - some people think I just snooze all day!

FOOD

Last night, and again this morning, Mum let me eat my sister's Golden Retriever food instead of my kibbles, and I'm totally okay with that. I have been unsatisfied with my kibbles lately. Mum and Dad think it might be time for a change because they're worried about my poop.

We've recently started having dog-family meals, where all three of us dogs eat together by the back door. I used to be the only one, while Claire was brought upstairs to have her special Golden food. Then came Clifford, who was too bouncy to eat so he was put in his crate during meals to not be so distract(ed)(ing).
Everyone seems happy with this new arrangement. At first I wanted to taste their food so bad! I whined and whined and whined and aarrroooooooed and wooooooooed and whined until Mum let me have some of Claire's food. It was delicious!

When I studied the information on the Royal Canin bag I learned that this food provides "Brain Support" which is essential for a great thinker like myself. Clifford came along to taste one of Claire's kibbles too, but he doesn't have a picky palate. He also gobbled up some of my leftover kibbles.

I wonder what kind of new kibbles Mum and Dad will find for me? I wonder if they'll ever find a bottomless water dish? So much to think about...

Mum tried to interview us about the new feeding arrangement. Clifford wouldn't sit still long enough to be interviewed, and by the time Claire was finished with her "I watch the Food Network" speech about her culinary preferences I was just too tired to be bothered any more.

Wordless Wednesday