Forgive me my Bassets for I have sinned and I have gone to the Dark side quite literally, once again. I do love my big black dogs.
I love my Bassets too. It's a lot like having children. You love the ones you have unconditionally, but with each new one you hope it won't have the faults of the ones before: THIS one won't take it's clothes off and run down the street naked.
THIS one will be using the potty by 2
THIS one will learn to eat with utensils .
THIS one will speak before 3.
THIS one won't scream "Mommy don't hit me again" in the grocery store when you have never laid a finger on her.
THIS one won't break his arm when you are not home.
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THIS one will hold his tail properly in the show ring.
THIS one won't bark at the mailman so hard that he spits on the front window.
THIS one won't stand on dining room table to look out the back window.
THIS one will let me cut his nails without jerking his foot away and screaming before i touch him.
THIS one won't eat the remotes, eyeglasses, paper products, tampons, popsicle sticks, poop, birds, mice, sandwiches, anything on the counter, or open cupboards.
THIS one won't carry knives and scissors off to play with.
No this one will be perfect. I can tell.
