Last night I got a phone call from the Animal shelter in Indiana, which was rather shocking. I'd called quite a few weeks ago in response to an ad about a basset hound that had been brought in and had been rather badly neglected. I had intentions on bringing him to our house, and giving him a new home, but I'd been beaten to the punch by five whole minutes. A new family had walked him out the door just before I'd called. I was glad to hear that he'd found a good home, and thought no more about it... until yesterday.

Well, apparently the family that walked out the door with the hound had brought him back in. They told the shelter officials that he'd nipped at one of their children, and they didn't want him around any longer as he wasn't safe. I asked how young the children were, and they told me that they were very small children likely three and under. I told the ladies at the shelter that I'd be there as soon as possible to have a look at him, and see how well he would do with my family and our present basset, Buttercup.

We arrived en masse to the shelter, and fell in love immediately. We decided that Indiana, we call him Indy for short, was going to be coming home with us in about oh... five or ten minutes. Indy was happy and glad to see us. He marched right up to the kids, tail wagging, and waited to be petted.

He and Buttercup checked each other over thoroughly, and they seemed to get along fine. I worried a little over how it would go when we got them in the car together. I found out that I didn't really have anything to worry about. Buttercup laid in the floorboard. Indy laid partly on the seat, and partly over my lap the whole way home. Not a peep from the two dogs at all! And this despite being held up in a small town along the way home for forty minutes whilst emergency crews cleaned up the mess from a motorcycle/deer accident.

Despite all this, I wasn't lulled into thinking things were set straight yet. After all, we didn't have the dogs home on Buttercup's turf. The two being of opposite sex, I figured when we got home that they might have the occasional growling match, or small tussle while deciding who was going to be dominant. I had hoped, and am still hoping, that I can stave such off by making sure that both know that I'm dominant around here. There was a small snapping match last night, but the husband and I staved it off.

When deciding that Indy could come home with us, I hadn't thought quite far enough ahead to envision what today would be like. Oh, I knew I needed to give the dog another bath, and that he might likely need about two more besides before I began to feel that he was clean enough to stay indoors. (Basset hounds, especially the males, develop a horrible musky odor if they aren't kept properly clean, and it's harder than the dickens to get out of their fur. You actually have to bathe them several times with baking soda in the water to get them clean.) I knew I needed to get him to the veterinarian to have him checked over thoroughly. I also knew that I'd need to get him out of that darned choke collar, and into a decent nylon collar, and fix the old logging chain that's been lying around the yard with some shiny new parts, namely; a pair of swivels - one for each end of the chain, a pair of D hooks, and a dog latch - at least until we can fix the new fence around the yard. What I neglected to think about was how I was going to juggle two dogs so I could get them outside for nature calls!

Talk about hilarious! They both want to be outside at the same time, and it's just hard as can be to ensure that they both stay inside while you are opening the door to grab the chain! Can you imagine what it's like to hold fifty five pounds of straining excited dog by the collar on one hand, thirty five pounds of dog between your ankles, and still try and get the chain all without falling out the door in a heap? And then I had to do it in the reverse when I was letting Indy out!

Well, that ordeal over with, I thought I'd let Indy get used to the yard a while, let Buttercup know I still loved her "best" by petting her and giving her a treat, and then relax a bit and read my morning email. Nothing doing! Indy, though reportedly being used to being outside on a chain, was NOT used to having evergreens nearby. He tangled himself neatly, and then howled like the dickens to let me know he was caught! Well obviously I now had to go outside. I told Buttercup to be good, latched the door so she couldn't push her way through the screen door and set about the task of untangling Indy, chain and all, from under several scratchy limbs of evergreen bush whilst keeping him calm.

Buttercup normally isn't apt to be rowdy when left alone, at least not since she's been a pup. Like the stereotypical basset hound, she's usually content to lay on the floor snoozing. To be fair, I'll grant you that I know that she has a penchant for plastic soda bottles and styrofoam cups, that she loves to get hold of them and make them crackle and squeak by mouthing at them with her teeth. Still, I had no idea that when I opened the door that I'd be faced with a scene of such devastating proportions.

Imagine if you will the surprised look on my face as I opened the door to find the murderous pup there with her hapless victim strewn all over my living room carpet, a bright look of joy in her eyes over what she'd wrought all over my floor! Poor dead Mr. Hairy! There wasn't anything left but a large pile of dirt, wet drool covered bits of styrofoam, shredded and matted grass, and bits of cotton ball fluff! Do you know how much mess the dirt from a 32 oz styrofoam cup makes in your living room floor? I quickly put Indy back outside, and placed Buttercup in her crate to commence cleaning up the mess. I thanked God several times while carefully vacuuming Mr. Hairy up off my carpet that he hadn't been watered for three days.