Mmmm....fire sticks

Last night, Dad brought a bunch of sticks into the house. I love sticks! Oh how I love munching them, crunching them and pooping on them.

So anyway, back to the indoor sticks. Apparently, they were going to have a "fire." Yea, it's kinda nice. It's warm and toasty, but I'm more interested in the sticks.

So, I found my favorite. A nice, beautiful stick (a little longer than a basset). So, doing what any good pig would do, I stole it. I munched it (mmmm....tasty!). And then I carried it upstairs to my favorite munching spot. See?
Mmm....fiber.

Then I tried bringing it into Mom and Dad's room, but no such luck. Something about bark shavings all over the floor and scratching the furniture. I don't know, I wasn't paying attention, I was trying to play keep away with my stick.

Then, the unthinkable happened. Dad stole my stick and put it in the fire place. Next thing I knew, my favorite stick was nothing but crumbs. Stupid Dad.

But then, this morning after my breakfast I remembered that they didn't use all the sticks last night. There were still 3 left! Sure, they were about a basset and a half long each, but who cares? I love indoor sticks!

So, I stole another one. From the bottom of the pile, naturally. So, while Mom and Dad were still in bed I rummaged through the stick pile and selected my favorite. Yea, I dropped it a few times, but finally managed to carry it up the 13 stairs to their room. Success!!! ::munch, munch, munch::

Then I decided it wasn't actually my favorite stick, so I needed to get the other one. This was was more of a struggle, but worth the fight. So, I dragged that one upstairs too. Now I had TWO sticks upstairs! Yay!

Then Mom and Dad decided it was a bad idea for me to be eating sticks and stole them away from me. Jerks.

Even worse - they hid them! How could they? And then they broke out the vacuum so I don't even have crumbs to eat. I hate the vacuum!

Oh well. The next stick that comes into this house is mine.

I Don't Give A HOOT!

Ok, so last night I'm in the middle of dreaming about my Beneful and pooping on sticks, when I heard something that woke me up. It sounded like this, "Hoooooooot, Hoot, Hoot, Hoooooooot!" I was like "Shut Up!" It is hard work to be such a beautiful Basset. I need plenty of sleep. Anything less than 23 hours a day and I'm a bear the next day.

I tried looking out of the window to see what was making all the noise. It was a friggin' tree basset. It looked kind of like this:

Next time that a-hole wakes me up, it will be a little like this:

I swear to christ if that f#$%ing tree basset wakes me up one more time, I will shank him.

Anyways, aside from that, life is good. I chased Rufus today and I have crapped about 4 times and it is only 1:15ish.

Peace,

Baxter

Nemisis # 242

The toothbrush.

Really Mom? Really? Was it truly necessary to attack me with the toothbrush and awful minty-fresh paste? I was working so hard on that nice garbage aroma that exuded from my mouth. And now - it's barely noticeable. How depressing. All that hard work...

I mean, it's not like she doesn't know how much I hate the toothbrush. I back away, slapping my gums in disgust. I swear, if that stupid thing wasn't stored so high up out of my reach, I'd destroy him and his minty-fresh taste.

Have ya met Fred?

Fred is my little convict buddy. You see, he's another basset hound that looks just like me. For real. If you're not familiar with the backstory and how Fred escaped the first time, please click here: Fred.

He escaped again last night. He was once again running straight for Mom and Dad's car. So, they pulled over and Fred whined to be let in...so Fred sat on Mom's lap. I can tell because I spent a good 30 minutes sniffing her coat when they got home. Dad called the owner and drove home because no one was answering the phone. Mom was planning on keeping Fred because, well, she's a cheater and loves him too. Jerk. But as soon as they arrived home, the Fred's human called back and Mom, Dad and Fred were off to return him.

This is Fred:

I suppose he's alright looking. I mean, after all, he does look enough like me to make him kind of attractive. But I'm still number 1. Right? Me:

For the record, Mom was going to take Fred in to meet me and take a few good pictures of him and us together, but Dad wouldn't let her.

Until we meet again, Fred.

The Werebasset Struck again

Stupid Werebasset, howling in the middle of the night...again. I can't stand him, he wakes me up out of a sound sleep with his stupid howling.

He needs to learn to control himself. I need my beauty sleep.

I'd write more, but I have to go back to sleep. I'm exhausted now, thanks to him.

My usual antics

Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've been busy chasing my tail, running around in circles, playing in the snow, sneaking onto my parents bed, licking my butt (not on the couch of course) and working on my beautiful houndy aroma. What can I say? It takes a lot to be me.

Anyway, tonight I had a green bean. Mmmmm. I think I like those. It wasn't as good as the pork scraps Mom gave me, but it was nice and crunchy - just the way dog food should be.

Not too much is new around here. I've been sneaking onto the parent's bed whenever I can, regardless of if they're in it or not. I like to scope out the situation first. Then I make my move. I jump up with grace and plant myself firmly by their feet. This usually makes my Mom erupt in laughter while Dad sternly replies: "Baaaxxxter" over and over as I ignore him and look the other way.

Eventually, Dad will shove his feet under my body, which will only aggravate me enough to turn around. More laughter. Finally, Dad will end up winning (jerk) and I'll slink of the bed, just as gracefully as before. Then I wind up in my stupid bed, waiting to be covered. And seriously guys? My bed STINKS. Yeeesh. It smells like a Basset's been festering in there!

So, that's what I've been up to.

Also, I'd like to take a moment to say: "Bad Grandma!" Why am I scolding my jerkface Grandmother? Easy - she doesn't want to see me. Who wouldn't want to see this? My parents are planning a Casino escape for a night (don't even get me started. First off, why can't I go to the Casino? I'm an excellent poker player. Most dogs are, but this isn't a hidden fact or anything. Secondly - that $5 that Mom gambles with could be put to much better use - like dog biscuits. I can't even fathom how many biscuits Dad's $20-$40 could by. Stupid parents and their lack of priorities).

Anyway, I digress. Grandma and her stupid cat don't want me staying during the week. Stupid cat. This is all her fault. I don't understand why Grandma won't let me near that stupid furry feline. I only want to play, but she says I'll give it a heart attack. Personally, I think Grandma's over reacting. I'll just chase her around the apartment a few hundred times. No biggie.

So, feel free to comment and tell my Grandma to take me for the night because 1) I need a bath 2) I want to eat...er...chase a cat. 3) I like sleeping on human beds and Mom and Dad won't let me on theirs.

Cuddling and Werebassets, oh my!

I spent much of last night cuddling my mom. First, I sat on her lap. Well - okay, I layed on her lap. She was on the couch, so I took it upon myself to jump up and get into her lap. From time to time I'd switch it up - body in lap. Front paws and head in lap. And switch!

Then, when she was alone in bed, I made my move. I heaved myself onto the human bed. Oh how I love the forbidden human bed! Ahh, sweet comfort.

Dad stared at me when he noticed. I stared him down. This is my bed. Eventually he came over and put his hands under me trying to heave me off the bed. No dice. I then lied directly on Mom. She's mine, I say!

Unfortunately, I lost the battle. Til another time, Dad.

Dad: 1
Baxter: 0

And now for the Werebasset.

In case you don't know, the Werebasset is a strange creature that occasionally pesters all of us when we sleep. He howls randomly in the middle of the night and gives us all panic attacks. He seems to howl around the time of the full moon. Hence the name, Werebasset.

Personally, I don't care so much that it wakes my parents up. But I do care that it wakes me up. I need my beauty sleep! And who howls in the middle of the night, anyway? I'm a sophisticated hound...err, pig. I only howl when provoked. And even then, it's rare.

Anyway, onto last night.

Last night, the Werebasset struck again. Late in the night, while all of us were sleeping he let out a slow, soft, oddly quiet Werebasset howl. I'll get you, Werebasset!

A few of my recent moments

Sorry I'm going to have to condense this list. Mom and Dad have been off for over a week, so I've been working over time lately and pulling all-nighters. I am exhausted!

1) Mom has had Snoopy (my idol) balloon for 2 months now. It has been floating around the spare bedroom - so one day I dragged it outside her bedroom door and woke her up. There it was directly in front of her door: "Cheer Up!" It took the sting out of my morning barf-fest that day.

2) I just stole a Christmas gift. It was AWESOME! I love presents. I love unwrapping. What did they expect me to do with that gift on the floor? (The floor is MY turf - my turf!) It's been sitting there for over a week now so I had to open it. Mom came running up the stairs when she heard the paper shredding. Naturally, I had to play keep away. This was my glass bottle of beer bread. (I love cooking!). Mine! Finally I brought it down stairs, but Dad startled me when he screamed: "Drop it!" So I did just that. I dropped the glass bottle on the hard tile floor. And they had the nerve to look annoyed. I dropped it, didn't I? Isn't that what you told me to do?

This over time is really killing me though. They keep having people over which means I have to bark at them and chase them around the house. And I have to play with Roofus (a "laser pointer" so they call him, but really, he's my BFF).

Even worse - they shipped me to Grandma's recently. Grandma's! It was awful, I was bathed - all that hard work acquiring my wonderful odor gone, just like that. I didn't even get to eat the cat.

Ok, that's all for now. I think I'm going to go sleep on Mom.

Christmas Antics

Christmas was a bit ruff (Get it? Ruff?). I had to work ALL DAY.

The day started out well though, Santa brought me lots of gifts. Here I am playing with one:


Faster than a speeding bullet. More powerful than a locomotive. Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.It's a bird! It's a plane!It's me, Baxter!


After I played with my new toys, I discovered that Santa had left more for me under the tree. While my parents busy cooking, I was busy unwrapping my gifts from under the tree. It was AWESOME!

Did someone say Christmas Ham?


Once guests arrived, I made sure to bark as much as possible throughout the day. After all, I was working that day. While everyone ate dinner and tried to talk, I barked. I take my job very seriously. I'm pretty good at it. I'm almost positive everyone told me to be quiet at least once. Ahh, success!

Here I am mid bark. I always have something to say:


Here I am doing my Wallace and Gromit impression:


Towards the end of the day, I was complete exhausted. It's hard work, annoying humans. Finally, I decided to rest on my loveseat. Unfortunately, I had to share with Grandma. I hate sharing. It's MY loveseat, Grandma.

The Bassets Escape on Christmas Eve, Hurrah, Hurrah.

I always have to add some excitement to the holidays. It's what I do. It's how I roll.

Yesterday was Christmas Eve. I don't really know what it is, other than the fact that Mom and Dad don't go to work that day but leave me alone anyway.

So, doing what any good pig would do - I escaped yesterday. I'm so stealthy. Right when Dad opened the door for Mom, I saw my chance - and took it. I bolted as soon as the storm door opened. I frolicked and ran crazily through the parking lot (making sure to stay on the icy sidewalk of course. The snow would have just slowed me down). Dad chased after me and got me to turn around. I then spotted Mom, leash in hand. She's no match for me. I darted down the stairs - ha ha!

My plan worked perfectly until of course, I was distracted by a large mound of snow. Mmmm, snow. It was so tasty, but ultimately lead to my demise. As I stood licking the giant snow heap, dad grabbed my collar and Mom put my leash on. Jerks.

Dad dragged me inside, called me a douchebag and locked me inside. Whatever, I had my victory. As far as I'm concerned, I won this one.

Parents: 1
Baxter: 1

I'm leveling the playing field.

What Mom and Dad didn't realize though, is that I was trying to throw a party. I was holding a basset convention. And they ruined it.

See, I was heading to Fred's house. My parents have never met Fred, but he's another basset - from the next town over. Once I was trapped inside, I dexted (dog texting) Fred to come over instead, since my 'rents had foiled my escape.

Naturally, since I'm the superior basset, Fred obliged and escaped his house. What's a mild electric shot among friends?

That would have worked beautifully...until Mom and Dad spotted Fred running frantically throughout the streets. Fred, being the amicable basset that he is, fell for their plan. Mom said: "Hey, dog" as Dad pulled over. They held his red collar (I also have a red collar) and called his human. Stupid parents. Fred's human came to retrieve him thus ruining our Christmas Eve basset convention plans. Jerks. All of you! I shake my paw at you!

For the record, Fred and I look very much alike. We are both supremely cute, tri colored bassets. The best of the breed, really.

So once again, foiled by the humans. I guess that means they're winning.

Parents: 2
Baxter: 1

I'll get mine.

Stay tuned for my Christmas antics.

Fluffy White Stuff Stikes Again

There is so much of it. My parents laugh at me because I'm "Pepe Le Pew" hopping up to the woods. I can't help it. The snow completely covers my stumps which makes pooping difficult. First, I have to hop my way up to the woods, then I have to mash down the snow while pacing back and forth, sniff out a good spot - you know the drill. And it's cold. And wet. The only good thing about it is that it tastes good - nice flavor, crunchy texture with a touch of environmental pollution. Good stuff.

Here I am running down the hill. Look at me in action:

O Christmas Ham

O Christmas Ham, O Christmas Ham

How ever salty are you?

O Christmas Ham, O Christmas Ham

You make me drool when you're around

I hope that you fall on the ground

O Christmas Ham, O Christmas Ham

How ever tasty are you?

O Christmas Ham, O Christmas Ham

How ever awesome are thee

O Christmas Ham, O Christmas Ham

You smell so good when you're around

You are a great sight to see

O Christmas Ham, O Christmas Ham

How ever glazed are thee

O Christmas Ham, O Christmas Ham

You make the house smell so Hammy

O Christmas Ham, O Christmas Ham

You taste like you'll stick to my ribs

I so glad I don't wear a bib

O Christmas Ham, O Christmas Ham

You are so ever tasty are thee

O Christmas Ham, O Christmas Ham

You taste so good in my belly

O Christmas Ham, O Christmas Ham

Your glaze is sweet

How tasty is your meat

O Christmas Ham, O Christmas Ham
I hope Santa brings you to me

I want to roll in it......

Today Mom and Dad were waiting around for something called "U-Verse." I told them they shouldn't waste their time with it and should just order "Hound-Verse," its all bassetts, all the time. Well, anyways, the signal isn't making it to our house so it couldn't get hooked up today. But, the guy that came to hook it up smelled like stale cigarrettes and cologne. It was awesome. I love stink. I love licking my butt too. It tastes so good, especially after I eat peanuts and mom hair!

On an unrelated note, I dropped my Kong off of my bed and it rolled behind the couch. I miss it. I can see it, but I can't reach it. If only there was some way I could walk behind the couch and pick it up. I keep hinting at my parents to get it, but they are just simple, stupid humans and apparently don't understand hound speak. STOP STARING AT ME AND PICK UP MY FREAKIN' KONG!!!!! God, they just blink at me and laugh. Where did I go wrong with them. I tried to train them to understand how important basset hounds are and that they should honor me, but they just don't seem willing to learn. I will just keep at it, they'll come around someday.

I miss you Kong!

Have you ever noticed...

That my name fits perfectly in the Mickey Mouse Theme?

B-A-X-T-E-R.....H-O-U-N-D!
Baxter Hound!

Yup, it works. And it's way better than Mickey Mouse. What does a stupid mouse need a theme song for? That's just stupid.

My new addiction

Beneful. It's so yummy and delicious - plus it stinks to high heaven, so that makes it even more appealing. It looks a little like fruity pebbles so I'm told (I don't really know - I can't see color, remember?) I know it's shaped much better than those stupid mini chunks mom was feeding me. Stupid mini chunks.

Anyway, I love my Beneful so much that I insisted on eating before going out this morning. Normally, I wake up - exude my sleepy basset stench and wait for Mom to take me out. But not today. Today, I exuded my stench, stretched and waited for Mom to open the door. Once she did - down the stairs and into the kitchen I went.

Gone are the days that I'd go out and decide not to eat because my parents were leaving me (again). Nope, now I must eat immediately. I am a Beneful addict. I must have it.

Incidentally, it makes my gas smell extra fragrant - in case you were wondering. Mom has pulled her sweatshirt over her nose twice as I've been writing this. Twice!

Oh, and if you'd like to know about my other food addiction and would like to buy some for me (Grandma), it's these:

They're my favorite cookie. They can be bought here: https://www.threedog.com/ or at your local walmart. So get shopping.