I didn't actively look for a dog last summer, although I kept an eye on the listings from Recycled Doggies, one of my favorite rescue groups and the folks who gave us St. Jimmi. Besides needing a mid-sized model with a temperament that could get along with our Bluetick Coonhound's, there was a the small matter of her matching my personality. My ideal dog would probably be one of those yawning bloodhounds from Hee-Haw. I like a dog who gets enthusiastic about walks and likes to fetch toys -- but in moderation. After a walk or fifteen minutes of play, my perfect dog then wants to cuddle up with me for a nice nap. Hound dogs have always worked out well for me for that reason.
Animal Adoption Foundation's Petfinder page. Her name was Sandy, found as a stray during a storm. She was a basset hound mix mixed with probably golden retriever or yellow lab and as soon as I saw those sad, droopy eyes, I thought we had a winner. Bassets are generally pretty laid back, a nice way of saying lazy. She was described as getting along well with cats, kids, and dogs, all important in this house.
|Getting ready to head home.|
|Orange collar with black name tag to|
match The General Lee.
NO Confederate flag.
|Snacking has its challenges.|
|Within two minutes of entering her new home,|
Daisy found the toy box.
|Half an hour later, after pulling every|
toy out of the box, she was ready
for a nap.
|Too bad she can't relax.|
And, yes, I do go around singing, "Just the good old dog, never meanin' no harm..."