Basset Poetry again!

We welcome December today, its cold here, I have to finish up my Christmas cards and get them into the mail today. I love sending and receiving cards in the good old fashioned snail mail. They are more personal and time consuming, it feels a little more sincere getting a real card in the mail than getting an email card. This year too, I am on the ball, and have even added a few more wonderful basset people to my mailing list. I love it! So with Christmas in the not so far future I have a poem for all of you to read, it was written by the husband of a wonderful friend of mine. He clearly, owns and loves his bassets a lot, enjoy everyone...

The Night Santas' Reindeer went on Strike.

Christmas was scarcely one week away
On strike Santas' reindeer went for more hay
"Meet our demands or Christmas is lost,
We don't really care how much it will cost".

Said Santa "I won't give in to this threat
I'll bring in replacements on that you can bet!"
For sleigh-pullers he searched as he made all his rounds
But all he could find were eight Basset Hounds.

"I'll teach them to run, I'll teach them to fly
They can't trip on their ears when they're up in the sky".
In the first few longs days Santa worked with his team.
It all seemed to him like a very bad dream.

He shook his grey head as he sat down to brood
"How can I teach them MUSH! doesn't mean food?"
Things improved as he tried a sneaky new trick
He put a huge doggy biscuit on a very long stick.

"A shovel I'll need, they're so long and so low
They may very well get high centered in snow."
Verbal commands they practiced in flight.
"Haw" to the left and "Gee" to the right.

Before Christmas Eve he said as he dressed,
"To look at their eyes just makes me depressed.
But my spirits are lifted and I know we won't fail
When I see each one of them wagging his tail."

On Christmas Eve they were ready for the big flight.
Said Santa, "Let's go and be steady, tonight is the night".
He gave them lots of encouraging pats.
"Don't get distracted by rabbits or cats".

The first landing on a roof top was a real dandy,
"This pooper scooper I brought will sure come in handy."
As he went down the chimney, Santa he begs
"I'll just be a minute, please don't cock your legs."

Before it was over, Santas' nerves were a-fraying,
From incessant howling and deep-throated baying.
Folks all around the world were awaking
Wondering what on earth was out breaking.

When Santa came home, he sat on a stool.
His beard was all frozen and covered with drool.
Dog-tired he said, "I'll sleep for a week.
Then a better rapport with my reindeer I'll seek."

Now when you see a Basset at work or at play
Remember the time that they saved Christmas Day.
At times they're unruly and for food they are hogs
But they forever remain the most faithful of dogs.

Written by Eric Goldbeck

1994

THE KISS or
(What wishing you “Snooters” Really Means)
BY Maggie Honnold

Huck, my Basset boyfriend, will come to sit upon my knee
And get right down to business for he’s in love with me.
He takes his great big paws; he does, and puts them on my chest
And he opens up his snout and with his tongue starts to caress.

I holler “help” but no one comes, for my family thinks it’s funny,
To see that Huckleberry Hound is sitting on my tummy.
60 pounds of Basset has me pinned right to my chair
And of this lap of Basset, I have learned I must beware.

I hold my breath, my head goes back but I’m not out of reach
For that foot long tongue just follows me, its contact I can’t breach.
Then, my chin gets wet, my tee shirt too as drool begins to drip
He has me now, right where he wants, I am in his grip.

Gasping slight, I turn my head from right to left and back
But it does no good for on my lips he places a large smack.
Up and down his tongue does go; it darts back and forth,
Into one nostril it penetrates, there are buggers there no more.

Oh, I fear what’s coming next for it has happened once before
I try again to hold my breath, as his tongue comes back for more.
And then it happens as I yell “stop”, his tongue comes boldly in
Where no man’s tread for years and years, the process then begins.

He rubs my lips, he feels my teeth, and my tonsils try to hide
But the onward plunge continues, as in my mouth that tongue abides.
Deeper, deeper down it goes, it slides and slips around
No space within my mouth is safe, where Huck’s tongue cannot be found.

I start to cough and sputtering I sit up in the chair
His tongue comes out, I take a breath, but now he’s in my hair.
My bangs he licks, my eyebrows too, my glasses sit askew
But I really love my Basset Boy, so what’s a girl to do?

Finally I push him off and he looks at me so sad
His eyes say “mom I love you, is kissing me so bad?”
I’m just a loving Basset Boy asking nothing in return
But a kiss to plant upon you and have it not be spurned.

For Basset love, my special kind, I wear upon my sleeve
And kisses given just to you are so that you’ll believe.

The Truth Behind The Eyes.

Have you ever really loved a dog? I mean really really? Did you ever find solace and peace within, just by gently resting a hand on top of his head? Me too, very often, and whenever I wish, if you want you can even come over anytime and try out the "head of the hound". You might want to bring a treat or 3, oh and be prepared to get a lick or two, but the peace found within that furry little dome is nothing but heartwarming.


Did you read about the most recent puppy mill raid done in Quebec? 527 dogs seized. To me that means 527 dogs that have not been loved, hugged, or been someones peace. This hits close to my heart because my first basset "Oscar" was a puppy mill pup. Most likely yanked from his Momma before he was old enough, then shipped to Northern Ontario to a rather popular pet store. Then of course there was the sucker of a woman who walked by and found him too cute to resist and pay $600 for him. But she only left him outside on a little 3x3 patio because he shed too much. That's how I got him at 16 months, because thankfully, he shed too much and she was expecting her 4th baby! I always wondered about his parents, did they get to live to be seniors? Did they die young of some kind of a disease, or were they tossed out on the side of a road when she was no longer able to get pregnant? How many pups were in that litter with Oscar, how many got to live to their 5th birthday, better yet their 10th? How many other dogs were on the same puppy mill property, how big were their cages? Could Oscar even have been born at that same puppy mill? A puppy mill this size could easily put out 1000 to 2000 puppies each year. I wonder what percentage of them end up in the hands of awful people, or the hands of the pound to only be tossed into a gas chamber like Quebec is so famous for.


I will never know, especially when it comes to Oscar, his papers were all false, false breeder names, vet names, and addresses. We tried looking for where he was born right after we got him. None of it was real, but I suppose that if you ship a dog to another province, and offer this "pedigree" with all made up information you can get away with it pretty easily because no one ever really looks into it. Thankfully the pet store where Oscar was bought has since closed. I heard a rumour that they might have even moved out of town. I don't know. The pet store where I buy my dog food doesn't even sell pets, they usually have a few "humane society" cats putting around the place, but never dogs, or hamsters, or birds. I refuse to give them my money if they take part in the animal trade at all. Even the few dollars profit from you buying cat litter and kibble from a store that sells animals gives them more money to bring in more pets.


Do you remember the crate you used for your puppy when you first brought him home? That is most likely bigger than the cage that puppy mill dogs live in for their entire life. Cages are stacked one on top of the other where urine and feces drop down through the cages below onto the floor. The dogs are rarely, if ever taken out and groomed or checked for sores or disease. They are just bred time and time again. When a 10 year old puppy mill female basset goes into rescue it is generally estimated that she has given birth to between 100 and 200 pups during her life time. Getting pregnant on her first heat cycle at 6-8 months and having a litter every 6 months after that. She usually has many physical health problems, let alone the mental ones having never been out of a cage, seeing people, or touching grass. It is heartbreaking.


Back yard breeders are one step above, the dogs generally live with the family, and have freedom to run around. They have food and exercise. Half of the time they even receive vet care on a regular basis. They are usually brought to the vet when ill because they only have one, maybe two females. They often create "high class" crossbreeds, and ask astounding amounts for their pups because a sucker is born every minute and will come and buy them as fast as they can produce them. The problem here again though is that they are not screened for genetic diseases, temperaments, and overall health. When it comes down to it, we should all be picking a dog, and expecting it to live the rest of its hopefully long life with us. Not us having to give it up because of temperament, or size, or having to have it put to sleep because of a genetic disease.


So what can all of us do to end this vicious cycle? For the first thing ADOPT DON"T SHOP! Rescue organizations everywhere are full with purebred and crossbred dogs. Watch Petfinder.com and don't let distance sway you either, my very own Odie came all the way from Louisville, Kentucky. They will help you find a way to get the dog you want to you. #2 Research your breed, we have the world at our finger tips now, if you want a certain size dog, or activity level look for the breed that suits you. The avid hiker and runner isn't going to want a basset, just like the average home body, that wants a cuddle around the house dog isn't going to want a border collie. #3 Let go of the puppy idea, TRUST ME, puppies, are not always fun, they are a lot of work and will cost you half a fortune by the time they hit a year old. Besides that rescue dogs are nearly always already spayed/neutered and are calmer and more appreciative of the home that they get. They are done the chewing, and peeing on the floor phase, and are ready for a family who just wants to love them till the end of time! #4 Spay or neuter your pet, don't be naive thinking that "Well Rover never leaves the yard" It only takes one run away for 10 minutes for a neighbour hood female to be having pups that look an awful lot like Rover. #5 Talk, talk, talk, tell friends, neighbours, people you meet while walking, about the truth behind pet store puppies and back yard breeders. Tell them about all the rescue organizations out there and how willing they are to help you find a dog that will fit your family, and do their best to get it to you. Remind them to spay and neuter, there are also many health benefits to it as well, not just prevented puppies! #6 If you are thinking that you don't want a dog, and that you would like to do more than just passing on the words of wisdom here there are still other options, most rescue organizations are begging for someone to foster for them till a home is found. They will pay for everything, you just need to offer, love, patience, and time. It is good for your soul too. Or you can make a monetary donation to a rescue organization for your favourite breed. I found Odie by simply putting "basset hound rescue Canada" into my google search engine. Many dogs that come into rescue rack up pretty big vet bills in a rather short time so any amount, no matter how small is always appreciated. Mostly though again, please remember folks, ADOPT don't SHOP!! My bassets thank you for it!

This is a link to a petition to ban puppy mills. Please sign and save a life. I did! http://www.petitiononline.com/mod_perl/signed.cgi?3450

A Follow Up.

Well it has been a few days since the dog attack, everyone is settling down, even still getting a few eggs a day. A neighbour way down the road stopped by Thursday evening to ask me if I was missing a chicken and a turkey. I basically shouted "YES" to them. I brought them out to the coop and showed them my ladies and my female guinea, and they said that yes, they had her mate, but he was a sight for sore eyes. Well it seems as though the two birds were just out pecking on his back lawn when a lynx came out of the bush and attacked the guinea. Thankfully the man of the house was fearless and attacked the lynx and saved the poor bird, then his little wiener dog attacked the guinea. But he is OK, less MANY feathers, but doing just fine. How do you thank them people enough, I mean they gave me back 2 of my birds and stopped the yearning from a hen that was missing her mate so much... I gave them the 2 dozen eggs that I had in the fridge, and thanked them profusely, to the point where they surely thought I was crazy to be so excited to see a couple of birds. When I jokingly told them that the male guinea is one of the few that has no name, he stated that they have been calling him lucky, and I mean seriously he survived a spaniel, lynx and a wiener dog. So "Lucky" it is.

Now however, I am even more edgy, first that that dog might show up again, and then what do you do? Secondly that the lynx, might show up, at least with a lynx, I know that it will only kill one, then take it away and eat it. It is making me very tempted to get a bigger guard dog to protect my flock, even I suppose that the ducks even need protection. But I think that for the time being, there will be no convincing my hubby, but however I am going to keep watch for a Newfoundland Hound for sale on our local classified website. Great family dog, loyal, and trustworthy, protective with its life for the family it is meant to protect. So I will watch for the next year or so, until I find one, and if I don't I will go to a good breeder in Southern Ontario.

So I have a sick duck in the house, I don't have the slightest clue what is wrong with it, but it seems to have picked up a lot over the last day, compared to the first day it came in, very lethargic, and awful looking. My youngest has taken a shine to the little thing, so has Hoover actually, Mothering the little thing when ever the opportunity arrives, licking the little guy constantly. My little guy has named him Cujo, as odd name I thought for a duck, and we don't even know its sex yet. The duck is still quite young, and is NOT a runner, but some other breed of duck, but it sure is cute, I hope it makes it. I took "Steve" my big dark duck, and put him in the storage side of the chicken house, where Luigi (the rabbit) lives. So "Daffy" was lonely and I put him in with my lonely little white runner duckling, they seem to be getting along rather swell, and have bonded out there in the pond. Maybe tomorrow I can introduce this other duck to them two then let those 3 back with Steve. A rather long and complicated process, just to have everybody get along.

Been busy around the "mini farm" lately, we had a tier of firewood delivered about a week ago, so that all needs to be cut with the chain saw, then split with the splitter, then piled in the woodshed to dry. It will dry in there until we need to start bringing it in somewhere around Thanksgiving, (the second weekend in October here in Canada). We already have a few cord split and in the woodshed, and a few more cord to be split and brought up. Basically that will be left to the boys and I during my summer away from work. Hubby does the chain saw and then the boys and I are supposed to split it all. Most likely what we will do this afternoon, seeing as it is a bit of a cool windy day, a nice day to be out doing firewood.

I still have lawns to mow, gardens to till, potatoes to hill, a basement to finish painting, trees to be chopped down, there really isn't a day of "boringness" around here, because if it happens to be a cool and rainy day, there is always laundry and other housework to be done! Everybody in the house is living happily and harmoniously, well as happy as Pebbles can be living with Bassets. We took her to the Cottage on Sunday, and boy does she ever shine out there, she loves it, no bassets around at all, a big lake, with more duckies than she can count. She is a free spirit, and is wonderfully obedient and quiet when there. I think that the cottage is her place of "Zen" as it is to most people. Look at your dog, they really do have this living in the moment thing figured out, I think that we all need to take a lesson or two from our furry friends. Peace Out!

A Basset is an Asset!

Somebody somewhere wrote a song called "A basset is an asset", you really should look it up on You Tube if you have never heard this cute little ditty before. As time seems to tick on I am beginning to think that there must be some kind of a conspiracy going on here. I have had bassets in my life for about 6 years now, and sometimes feel like perhaps I have been tricked into this "asset" business.
Don't get me wrong, I love, even adore my bassets. Really can not imagine my life without them in it. The love and entertainment that I get from them is astounding. When I have been sick and they tend to dote on me all day, not making a huge fuss, but hanging close none the less. The stillness and quietness that overcomes them when I am sad and crying, the way that they just lay there and let me softly stroke their fur and sob, knowing that the next day no one will even know that I was crying and that my troubles will not be the latest gossip to go around in the circle of friends. They force me to drag my old behind out of the house in the evening for a walk, otherwise known in my house as a "doo dee dooo" courtesy of my best friend with 2 beagles that is also not allowed to use the "w" word in her house. She coined the "d" word a year ago at least and I have recently stole it. I never throw left overs in the garbage, even empty chip bags are carefully licked in my house, nary a crumb on my floor, and if I take a little stroll outside before washing the table after a meal, there also won't be a crumb on the table. Now that's convenient! The other side of my queen size bed is never empty, even when hubby works out of town, or gets up at 3:30 in the morning. There is always somebody on the other side of the bed when I open my eyes in the morning, it isn't always a pretty sight, sometimes it might be basset belly, basset teeth, or the worst and most popular of them all the basset butt. I have learned not to leave a plate around with food on it to eat later, cause the plate is still there but nice and shiny clean, so I suppose that they are also kind of like a diet, eating the food that they "know" you shouldn't for the good of your health and waist size. So yes, I suppose that in many ways a basset is an asset. Not to most, but to a trained basset lover all of these could be good qualities, bassets have perhaps "trained" us into thinking that these are good qualities.
But, all in the same breath sometimes these two characters of mine are enough to make me bonkers and wonder what exactly I was thinking when I got that first basset, let alone the 2 that have followed him. Double for the fact that 2 at once is its very own set of challenges that I never even really thought of. Now seeing as I so lovely listed how a basset "could" be an asset, I am going to offer my own rebuttal, so to speak. I am going to begin with the telephone, bassets and phones really do not mix, in more ways then one. Our phone company has an answering service like most do, but it seems to pick up way too soon. On about the third ring, to be precise, now in my house when it rings if I am in the far end of the house I often kinda jog to the phone because I want to talk on the portable phone because I generally know who is calling and I know that it will most likely be a lengthy conversation. So now in my house it is not just me making that dash to the phone the bassets do it as well. Even before I begin my jog they are heading that way, trotting kinda sideways, UNDER my feet, tails gaily wagging, knowing that they are going to trip me on the way there and that I am most likely gonna miss that last ring and then rough house with them for getting in my way. So I suppose that like the dog that drooled when the bell rang, mine think its tackle mom time when the phone rings. If by the lucky chance that I am prepared for the phone to ring, or make it before the machine picks it up the dogs take that as "wow its wrestle time". If I go to the sun room to talk the dogs wrestle there, generally right under my chair, when I try to sneak off into the living room they catch me and follow only to wrestle in front of where ever I am. Did I mention how noisy they wrestle??? Cause its loud, so sometimes I sneak outside, well that doesn't work either because then they sit at the other side of the door and howl their faces off because I didn't take them. Secretly I think that it is because they know that I am sitting on a lawn chair and they just want to wrestle under it. Another example of the "non assetness" would be TOILET PAPER and that is all I am going to say on that subject, there are too many stories, and too much money tossed into the trash to go into details. How about hair and poop, how do you even get into the amount of each of these, we tend to forget that bassets are "big" dogs on little legs, well we all know that big dogs don't have little poops..... The hair is always around, white and black clothes are out of the picture, basset owners live in an array of colours, especially grey, and denim, the hair doesn't seem to stick as much to jeans. Gotta admit though it does make me giggle sometimes seeing that "tumbleweed" roll out from under the bed when I open the window. There is also the barking and the drooling. Hoover isn't really a big barker, (thank goodness) but Odie is, he just seems to love the sound of his own voice. He however is a little drier lipped, Hoover is my drooly hound, the one who splatters walls, the TV, clothes, the car, your face, even the ceiling on the odd occasion. He also likes to not quite finish drinking his water before walking away from the bowl, leaving a nice slippery tail for about 6 feet from the bowl, so nice to step into.
So yes, deep down I think that somewhere out there is a really smart basset who wrote that song and paid some bar singer to sing and record it. Bassets everywhere are laughing behind our backs knowing that they have brainwashed everyone into thinking that they are super dogs. But to be honest, I really don't mind, I know that people are hating on me everywhere cause they are jealous that I have the best breed of dog out there. Especially Labrador people, I mean seriously, what is wrong with those dogs? More so, what the heck seems to be wrong with their owners? How the heck did they land the number one breed, for most popular and hold the position for so long when my breed is so superior compared to them numb skulls? They can keep their number one position though, because an abundance of labs are destroyed everyday in North America. Our bassets and the people that love them are a community working together to save the breed from being put to death in shelters. With that I will end with the motto once again that perhaps that yes "A basset is an asset" but PLEASE remember just as important "Adopt, don't shop". There are many basset rescue organizations across Canada and the United States, contact one if you are thinking about a basset or would like to make a donation to a worthwhile charity.

Gonna be a bright, bright, sunshiny day....

Well it appears as though the nice weather has finally arrived, and we are all hoping that it might actually stay this time around. I was able to get my garden planted a couple of weekends ago thankfully. It is just beginning to pop out of the earth now. I still have plants left to go in, and more plants to buy to put in as well.
But anyways, my duckies have been out and about a lot recently, one neighbour has even nick named them the happy travelers. It seems as though they have picked the lawns around us bare of bugs and worms so they have now decided to venture down and across the road to the yards with the nicer, more bug ridden lawns. Well Sunday evening after a very long day of outside work moving the chicken coop. (Pictures coming soon I hope.) Those little brats took off once again across the road, this was about 9:30 in the evening too, so there I was all cozy and comfy on the sofa when I see them out the front window running fast to get away. I had to toss on some boots and head down the road and chase them home. I figured, well that's enough of that so I cornered and caught them and threw them into the dog kennel so they would be stuck safe till I could build them their own pen when I got home from work on Monday. They were not impressed with me at all about the whole situation, quacking up a storm and pacing the fence with a look of forlorn on their little faces. How can you see forlorn on a ducks face you ask? Well it is as obvious to me as a mother of any baby, you know your child.... Well actually that isn't true at all. They don't seem to have any facial expressions at all ever. I see a curious look, but that is more by the tip of their head and the beady little black eyes, they really can't smile or frown like a dog can. Basically, they just always look surprised!
But back to my story, well the ducks had to spend the night and next day in the dog kennel, I figured, well hey, there must be a lot of bugs in that yard, for one, the ducks have never been in there before, and for 2 every time I pick up a poop, there is always ants or little dung beetles underneath.... YUCK... I am not too sure what they did all day when I was gone to work and the dogs spent a lazy afternoon locked up in the house. But I do know that they got a rough and tumble hour of "play" in the middle of the night. Let me explain, Hoover went out for a pee around 11 pm, he did not even notice that the dicks were in his pen. He went out, down the stairs, peed on the grass, back up the stairs and into the house onto the futon. That is his regular routine, why change what works for you. Right? Well Odie has a very different routine, he does not go out at 11 with Hoover, he stays in snoozing on the couch in the living room, unless I feel motivated enough to go and drag him to the door. Most nights I do not feel that energetic. Instead Odie wakes me up sometime between 2 and 4 in the morning. His routine is as follows, cry at edge of bed till mom wakes up, (yay) go to door and cry till mom gets there to let me out. Then he ever so slowly goes outside, stopping on the deck to smell the night air, checking to see if its raining and he should make this a quick pit stop. If it isn't raining, he will saunter down the stairs and wander around the yard. He is usually at least 15 minutes. I go back to bed now, I was getting to cold in the early spring waiting up for him to do his duty, standing there at the door while he takes his time and my precious sleep eludes me, so that he can sniff. Darn hound. So when Odie asked at 4 I got up let him out and went back to bed. I forgot about the ducks......
I was woke up at 4:51 to barking. Oh crap I thought, I forgot Odie out, he must be getting chewed up by the bugs. But, Oh no, he was out there chasing and catching the ducks, he would run and jump on top of one, chew him up, (playfully like he does with Hoover) then dash the other way waiting for the duck to chase and attack him. Well the ducks of course would just run in the other direction, flapping to try to fly over the fence. With no luck of course. I was standing out there laughing at them all and the whole situation, Odie's tail was wagging so fast, and I have never seen him so happy before. So it took me a few minutes to catch him, with ducks flapping and flying over my head and quacking. He didn't put up a fight to come in, he likely just thought that he would play with them again when he got up at 7. Poor birds were so relieved when I came into the house, they first strutted around the yard like they beat him up and that was the reason that he left, then they cuddled up in the corner and went to sleep. Odie did the same thing in the house, fell asleep right away and didn't want to even get up at 7, till I reminded him of his ducky friends out in the yard. But that time he was tied. Hoover still thought nothing of them in the morning, smelled them all from top to bottom then came into the house. So everybody lived to see another day. I wonder though how long they would have live together before they would all be friends? So the ducks are once again fenced in next to the dogs and the 3 of them and Odie play together through the fence again like they always used to do. It really is a wonderful life, especially if you are lucky enough to have a "wee" farm!

New Name!

So as of today my blog is going by a different name. The change is because this clearly isn't about a basset puppy anymore. For the main reason that Hoover isn't a puppy at all. Well I suppose that in his heart and maturity he really still is. But technically he is no longer a puppy at the ripe old age of 2 and a half.
Also because this has become more of a farming story, with a little bit of basset thrown into the mix. I hope that my die hard basset fans aren't too upset with me, but Hoover really isn't that exciting to write about. It is kinda the same old thing day in and day out, mop up pees then scold dog, feed dog, play with dog. Clean up dog kennel poops, feed dog again, wrestle with dog, tell dog to be quiet now because the 1 hour program of TV a week that you manage to watch just began and you can't hear what the heck Meredith is trying to tell Derek, but she looks like she is crying..... By the time the basset wrestle is done so is the first half of Greys and you are left wondering why in the heck you bought that second basset again, when one REALLY was ENOUGH!!
So here I begin again so to speak, with a new name and a new out look on the whole blog. Hoping that you will have patience to read about canning pumpkin occasionally, plucking chickens, mowing the lawn, gathering eggs, grooming a rabbit, and of course there still will be basset stuff. I mean come on they are still good subjects, they are still dorky. I will still try to toss in the odd recipe for you here and there, as I have gathered a few over the last year. So I look forward once again to your comments if you are still reading, and if there is anything you would even like me to write about when it comes to the hounds, farming or even gardening.
By the way too, I had 4 beautiful little black chicks hatch this morning, they really aren't any bigger than your thumb. Adorable, I will get a few pics as soon as she is ready to give them some food, so that I can snap a pic. They are calling for cold tonight so my garden is all covered and most of my birds are already tucked up in the coop. But still have more chores to tackle. So until next time, hopefully soon, take care of yourself, and those that you love! :)

Not too punctual.

So apparently I am not so good at keeping this up. Wishing that I had more energy or more time or both would be even better. Time just really gets away on me lately. Running the farm, working all the time and taking care of my hounds and boys seem to often get the best of me.
The bassets are doing really well, Pebbles too, she turned 9 this spring. Time goes too fast, it seems as though it was only a year ago that we got her as a little fluff ball and she was getting pushed around the yard in the back of a Tonka truck. Her health is well, she is beginning to have troubles with her knees, and a few problems with her teeth, so most likely she will be going in for dental work this fall.

Hoover is still silly, and rather bad.... Just never a dull moment with that hound around. He will still sneak and steal a roll of toilet paper if given the opportunity. Will still let out a little pee on my floors here and there too. Not very impressive at all I must add. Odie though has fit in really well. He is still a clown and still likes to bark. I think that he has put on even more weight, so he is currently on a little bit of a diet to thin him out a little. It is raining here at the moment, and the smell of wet dog surrounds me. Nice, Welcome spring!

The farm has expanded, we still have 3 ducks, all males. Dang, not impressed at that at all. We will hopefully be able to get a female this summer and possibly set a few eggs. We have 11 nice big laying hens, a few that have been named, 3 bantams (one of which is our rooster who goes by the name of "Foghorn"), and 2 guinea fowl. Also have 4 black layer chicks, all due to begin laying around the beginning of September. We are getting a dozen eggs a day and even managing to sell a couple dozen a week. I can't even begin to explain how nice it is knowing that we are eating farm fresh, with no chemicals. Let alone how the hens, have became such pets. We also ordered 20 meat chickens, they arrived on April 13th as little tiny things, about as big as a bunch of golf balls. They have now grown into relatively large white chickens, nearly 4 lbs each already.

My garden did surprisingly well last fall. We got tons of fresh veggies out of there. Made plenty of zucchini recipes from breads to casseroles. Did canning after work for a good month straight. Almost to the point of having too many veggies to handle. Due to the fact that I changed jobs as well, there just wasn't enough time to get everything done. So the blog suffered. Then once a habit it becomes difficult to get back into. So here's to hoping I can get it made back into a habit once again. Well thats about it for today, will post again really soon...