When I die, please bury me in Seattle

Hooman really loves me. Sometimes when she is cuddling with me, she will say, "Abbie, when I die, I want to be buried with you."  Sounds sweet, right? Howl no! That is called "Mutually Assured Destruction."  It doesn't take one and half hooman brains to figure out that my hooman is crazy as howl.

And quite honestly, I don't want to spend eternity in a box with HER anyway. She has bad breath in the morning. Yea, I said it.

Anyway, when I die, I want to be buried in or near 3207 California Ave SW, Seattle, Washington.

It is my heaven.

Some view Heaven as a place with mansions and gold streets.

Some view Heaven as the ultimate eternal nap complete with soft music and fluffy pillows.

My heaven will have one thing and one thing only, BACON!!!!

And someone wiser and more profound in theory has made my dream of BACON HEAVEN a reality.

See hoomans, when dogs die, all dogs go to Heaven. Don't believe me, have you not watched the documentary, ALL DOGS GO TO HEAVEN? Geez... anyway,

while you hoomans debate on what heaven is, my prophecy of eternal bliss has been fulfilled...

in the form of

THE SWINERY

Temple of Porcine Love

It is where I can lay down the burdens of everyday life and just feel the love and comfort of a covenant so powerful and fulfilled, that those who dare speak ill of it will be struck by lightening!!!

Please do not dare commit my earthly remains to the Coon Dog Cemetary.  I know my pal, Judy, speaks volumes of it...

but hooman please, if there is one bit of happiness that you would want for me, your beloved Basket Hound, it shall be always and forever... within sniffing distance of The Swinery. 

There, I said it. Now go in Peace to love and serve the Lord. Amen!

And, please lay me down for eternity near the heavenly place of meat candy. 

I've already picked out a box and I'm ready to go...

Where have I been?

Well, it's true. I have been MIA in the blogging scene for a while.

Let me explain. It's all the hooman's fault.

She has been blah blah blah blah blah. Oh, who cares. She has just been lacking in the secretarial department for me. I would fire her but since we live together and all, I have tried to be patient with her.

See, my world has been turned upside down lately people.

For starters, hooman and the old man RIPPED UP MY CARPET!! Do you people realize that was the ultimate back scratcher for me?

They placed hardwood floors which means I have been taking unforeseen, uninvited, and uncomfortable ice skating lessons across the house. If I slide one more time into the foot of the bed, serious bassety repercussions will take place.

I am still not fully recovered from the CHAIR INCIDENT  of 2009.

Then Summer Heat Wave '10 hit. I don't care if you are hound or hooman, this heat wave has been killer.  And the hooman expects me to go out and take care of business, regardless of the temperature. I mean, flies start following my butt the moment I walk out.  That was probably too much information. It's hot, hounds.

And don't even think for one second I can get away with a little accident. NOOOOOO, Mr. Hardwood is not like Mr. Carpet. Mr. Hardwood tells on me immediately and hooman freaks out.  Which brings me to my newest enemy, Mr. Swiffer Mop.  Just the thought of squatting gives me more guilt than a Catholic before confession.

But the ultimate insult of the year was when the hooman did not take me to BARKWORLD in Atlanta. Do you now how excited I was to go? Do you know disappointed I am to not have gone?

Life for me has been so dadgum boring lately I almost made friends with the possum. Almost!

But I am back. Let's see if my hooman can get it together. In the meanwhile,  did I mention I won 3rd place in the Annual Basset Hound Bash Wiener Toss?

GUESS WHERE I AM GOING!!!!

Public Service Announcement: READ TO YOUR HUMANS!!!

Dear Hounds,

I cannot tell you stress to you enough of the importance of reading to your humans. There are SO MANY benefits that come from a simple daily read.  Once you establish a pattern, you will find your human's imagination soar and their intelligence rise significantly.

You need not start off reading War and Peace to them, a simple poem, illustrated book, or small news article will suffice until your human gains the understanding of larger, more complex issues.  In fact, before you know it, your human may gain the intelligence enough to read on their own or even write a blog.

So please, READ TO YOUR HUMAN and often!

A human mind is a terrible thing to waste!

Love, Abbie

Midnight Sonnet for my Human.

(Howled to the tune of Memory, from the musical CATS)

Daylight

I make dew on the weed flowers

And arose and I'm swaying

Noses smelling the day

Like the scents

I yearn to turn my face to the dawn

I am waiting for the day . . .

Midnight

There's my sound from the pavement

Has my human lost her memory?

She is grinding her teeth

In the lamplight

The humans stomps at her feet

And the hound begins to moan

Memory

All alone in the moonlight

I can howl really loudly

I was beautiful then

Human remembers the time of silence

Let the memory live again

Every critter

Seems to howl a loud warning

And the poodle mutters

And the doghouse is cluttered

And soon it will be morning

Daylight

I must wait for the sunrise

I must think of my loud howls

And I musn't give in

When the dawn comes

Tonight will be a memory too

And a new day will begin

Burnt out earplugs of human

The cold sound of my snoring

The moon is gone, I'm lazy

Another day is dawning

Touch me

It's so easy to leave me

All alone cause I'm snoring

In my days in the sun

If you touch me

You'll understand what crankiness is

Look

A new day has begun

Guest Blogger: My Human! Dogs: Blessed are the Peacemakers

Abbie has generously allowed me to guest blog tonight. Thanks Abbie! Now please get off my lap so I can type!

Dogs: Blessed are the Peacemakers

(Inspired by Dogingham and her Black Bean Burger at Rojo's on Highland)

In 1989, I moved to Highland Avenue in Birmingham. I was 19 years old and ready to take on the world.  I moved into a small apartment complex located off Hanover Circle.  I had no fear of living by myself although my mother certainly did her best to instill some fear in me with random statistics of the dangers of living in an Urban area. She failed miserably. Those were incredible years of my life.

I worked fulltime for a marketing firm while trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. For a non-degreed, non-trained 19 year old, my job paid the rent, utilities (most months) and gave me enough money to purchase ramen noodles and the occasional beer (or Boones Farm), sold to me by a very unattentive clerk at the Western Supermarket.  I guess I looked two years older or she was simply tired to ask for ID.

The apartment complex was filled with every kind of person I had never been exposed too.  My neighbor, Mr. Mendelstien, was an elderly, Jewish widower. As I was moving my coffee table (made from a old barrel) and my sofa, compliments of the thrift store, into my apartment, he asked me if I was going to play that rock music.  I smiled. He almost passed out when he saw the contents of my aquarium contained a small garden snake.

My neighbor upstairs was a medical student who worked part time at a research lab. His job was to take fecal samples from different cats at the lab and test them for contents. He was a brillant guy who had a crappy job. (pun intended)  I wonder where he is today and can only hope and imagine that his job is much more fulfilling.

All and all, the residents in that small complex were black and white, straight and gay, American nationalists or visiting foreigners.  We came from all backgrounds, places, and experiences.  We were different in religious or philosophical thought, cultural influences, etc.   Like snowflakes, no two humans are alike, but the one thing that united us together: OUR DOGS!

We ALL had a dog (or two, or three).

When you have a dog and you live in a small Urban area, you are forced to walk beyond the front door, into a world of grassy areas, sidewalks, and cultural differences.

I had a small poodle that I had inherited from my beloved Grandfather. Bebe was a round, yappy ball of white fluff. She was spoiled. Her world had been completely turned upside down when my Grandfather died.  My world had been completely turned upside down when I decided to leave suburban East side to live on my own.  We had a lot in common. We knew this was our chance to start a new life.

My favorite time of the year was (and still is) April through September.   The days were longer and the afternoon walks were perfect ways to end the day with Bebe.  It was through these walks that I met my neighbors.  When I would walk Bebe along Highland Avenue, life just seemed right.  I would smile at other dog owners and they would smile at me. Truly peace does begin with a smile.

I learned that Bebe was not picky about who she would approach, be it a Lab, Greyhound, Corgi, or Heinz 57.  She seemed to like them all.  I found that her genuine friendly attitude was something I could simply not avoid.  She opened up my heart and mind, one simple yap or butt smelling at a time. No, I didn't practice her greeting method, a wave with my hand usually produced the same results.  Rhodes Park was a haven for friendship building.  Once our routine was established, Bebe realized that she could freely run with the big dogs, while I laughed with my new friends.

We can learn a lot from dogs. I learned that if I stepped out beyond my front door, my dog would lead my heart and help me build relationships that formed a lasting foundation of how I see people. 

There is no difference in ourselves or each other that should prevent us from accepting each other and being friends.

Dogs: Blessed are the Peacemakers

Now, if Abbie will allow me to guest blog again, I have some awesome stories to share in the future.

The world needs happy.

The world needs happy.  My human told me that tonight.  We were sitting around, she adoring me, as usual, when the news came on. She watched it, I watched her and she looked at me and said, "The world needs happy."  I guess my human was hit with a moment of clarity.

I wagged my tail.  She looked at me and said, "That a girl, be happy."  I translated that to be, "Abbie, I will get you a treat."  She didn't.

But I still wagged my tail.  It is instinctive.  I don't know why I wag my tail.  I just do. 

Sometimes I do it when I am laying in the sun, doing nothing.
Sometimes I do it when I see a stranger.
Sometimes I do it just because...

I have no reason.

People, you really need to be more like me and my hounds.  Just wag your tail sometimes.

It doesn't hurt.

Try it.
Oh, you know you want too.
Because...
The World Needs Happy.