My little ol' blog...it ain't much.
It's certainly no Pioneer Woman. And I love me some Pioneer Woman.
So it occurred to me...what do I have in common with Pioneer Woman?
Do I live on a Ranch? Nope.
Do I wear cowboy boots? Nope.
Do I take phenomenal pictures? Nope.
Some of which are of myself practicing ballet positions? Nope.
Do I have 4 young 'uns? Nope.
Do I love to cook? Nope.
Do I have a retarded brother named Mike? Nope.
How about having an audio of myself burping? Uh...nope.
Or a liking for impersonating Ethel Merman? Again...nope.
Heck, I don't have a sister named Wetsy or a friend named Hyacinth. I have a sister named Hailey and another named Ashley AND a girl named Diddle used to cut my hair...does that count for anything? I don't actually know any REAL cowboys. I do live in Nashville where a lot of people dress like cowboys while they sing AND my husband tried on some cowboy boots at the mall last week...does that count for anything? I don't have big prize giveaways on my blog...but I have tried to win some of Ree's...does that count for anything? I don't have a rhino or a gator or whatever that thing is called but my husband does have a four-wheeler AND he's a deer hunter...does that count for anything? Of course, he can't actually hunt HERE...in the city limits, in the 'burbs, in a subdivision, on a cul-de-sac.
THEN it hit me!!! Ree and I have something larger than life in common. Something that no one can understand lest you've walked a mile in our shoes. I'm talking about Basset Hounds. I.HAVE.A.BASSET.HOUND!!! Just like Ree. And, let me just tell you, I'm not too proud to blog about him in order to shamelessly lure Pioneer Woman to take a peek at my blog. Oh no I'm not.
My Basset boy is no Charlie. Ree's Basset, Charlie, is still a pup. Our guy, Smokey, he's 7 years old and let me just tell you that now that I think about it, there's not really a lot of difference (when it comes to Basset Hounds) in a pup, a teenager or even an old man Basset. For the most part, they all lay around and sleep...and they all stink. Smokey was a gift from my Dad (thanks AGAIN Dad) to Jordan for his ninth birthday. At the time, the cute thing weighed 9 pounds. Today, he weighs 70 pounds and that's down from about 85 but, can I just tell you, that he is just as cute as ever. The boy, he's got some big ears and some really big fat feet. Every time I took him to our former vet (seriously every time), he (the vet....Smokey doesn't talk) would say the exact same thing..."That's the biggest damn Basset I've ever seen". Every time...seriously. (And, by the way, sorry to my church friends who are reading...it was a direct quote from the vet...really.)
Smokey cracks us up and I could kick myself for not having video of what used to be his favorite hobby (actually I did video it once upon a time but I'm not sure where the tape is). At our last house, we had a wooden swingset that had a fort-type thing at one end. It had a ladder (straight up and down ladder with maybe 6 rungs) for entering and a slide for your exit. Smokey...yes Smokey...could and would climb the ladder (seriously), get into the fort and bark his fool head off before, you guessed it, sliding down the slide on all fours. He would actually do it over and over and I know that he misses that but, I've gotta tell you, I was afraid the boy was going to hurt himself. We used to have to block the ladder at night or else he would wake us up at night barking non-stop from the fort.
So, Ree, are you out there? Wanna get Charlie and Smokey together sometime? I'm sure that they'd have a great time....they could do some serious sleeping.