Long, Low and Droopy

Howard B. Hound

He was my spoiled, droopy boy. 

Basset hounds are living, breathing cartoons. You can't stay sad or mad around them.They drool, they smell yeasty, they have health problems. They are worth it. Look at that face. Is it Murphy's fault Howard finished first? 

Murphy was rescued from Basset Buddies Minnesota at 11.5 years old. His owner had died, my last greyhound died a couple of weeks earlier and Howie needed a friend. Murphy was an energizer bunny, unlike the slug, aka, Howie B. Murphy attached to Howard right away and Howard looked at it as a burden he had to bear. Howard looked at everything as a burden he had to bear.

They got along well. Murphy always wanted to be where Howard was. Howard first was diagnosed with Glaucoma. A year later it was congestive heart failure. We spent a lot of time at the vet. Murphy always came along. Howard was on a lot of medication, he also had chronic ear problems needing meds. He was a trooper through all of it. I ended up keeping him alive a year, six months longer than was predicted. I gave him a lot of furosemide, much more than was prescribed. It's what removes the liquid around the heart. The vet didn't think I should, I said, what does he have to lose? He got another happy six months out of it.

The above photo is not Howard whining. This is Howard in full I Want My Biscuits mode. He would start with a low whine and then steadily ramp it up until it looked like this. Howard got what Howard wanted.

Howard let go May of 2017 and Murphy joined him March of 2018. Howard was ten, Murphy sixteen. I was without a dog until my mother died May, 2020. Emma and Keetah came to live with us. Emma died six months later at seventeen, a long life.

I was scrolling through photos and of course I have a lot of Howie. He needed a mention.