BuckBasset Stories Collection pg. 5

Basset Stories Pg. 5

Rescuer's Creed

I promise I will take your unwanted animals.

I will heal their wounds, their diseases, their broken bones.

I will give them the medical attention they need and deserve.

I will nurture their starvation, and give them a warm place to sleep.

I will spay and neuter them, vaccinate them against the diseases that can harm them.

I will treat them and honor them.

I will buy them toys, blankets, balls, and teach them to play.

I will speak softly to them.

I will try to teach them not to fear, not to cry, not to fear, and not to hate.

I will whisper sweet, kind, gentle words into their ears, while gently trying to stroke their fear, their pain, and their scars away.

I will face their emotional scars and give them time to overcome them.

I will socialize them, potty train them, teach them to be obedient, show them dignity, and hold their paws, and stroke their ears if they have endured too much and walk them over the Rainbow Bridge, BUT most of all I will teach them Love.

-- author unknown

You Know You've Been Doing Too Many Rescues When...

You have a mental list of people you'd like to spay or neuter.

You stopped at a house with a "Free Puppies" sign in the yard to have an Educational "Chat," and your kids had to post your bail.

Running out of paper towels is a household crisis.

You not only know all the characteristics of a good "stool," you discuss them at dinner.

Your checks have messages on them like "Subtract Two Testicles For Every Four Feet."

You have a bumper sticker that reads "My Golden Retriever Is Smarter Than Your Graduate Student."

You secretly wonder about such things as how animals can manage without wiping.

You pray they will someday manufacture Teflon furniture.

You have phone calls forwarded to PetsMart.

You absentmindedly pat people on the head or scratch them behind their ears.

Given the choice of having your teeth cleaned or their teeth cleaned, they get their teeth cleaned.

You not only allow pets on the couch, guests have to sit on the floor because the dog has "territorial issues."

Your spouse missed the final game of the World Series because the cat wanted to watch his favorite video, "Birds of North America."

Anytime the animal appears lethargic, you go on-line and investigate vetmed websites, pose questions to your address book and on e-lists, and by the time you digest all the information and field the correspondence, the animal has torn out the window screens, masticated a couch cushion and left something disgusting in your favorite pair of shoes.

Your chatroom handle is "Queen of Spayeds."

You and your vet are on a first name basis and he genuflects when you enter the waiting room. His daughter at Harvard refers to you as "Auntie."

You needed a prescription to recover from "Old Yeller."

You've forwarded more warnings about the dangers of chocolate, onions and mistletoe than the National Center for Disease Control has issued about anthrax and smallpox.

You wear white year 'round, not because you are flaunting a fashion law or belong to a religious sect but because you have a Dalmatian, Great Pyrenees, Samoyed or white Persian at home.

The world would never guess from your "dog or kittyspeak" posts to e-lists that in reality you are chairman of the IBM corporation.

By the time you investigate different flea control products, their advantages and potential risks, natural versus chemical methods, and study the life cycle of the flea, any fleas have died of old age.

You tell your children to "heel!" in a grocery store.

For relaxation, you went mall hopping with your girlfriends. Your eyes glazed over when you saw a sign in front of a pet shop, "20% Off All Puppies & Kittens," and you slapped three security guards before they got you safely contained in the manager's office.

>>>>>AND MY PERSONAL FAVORITE...>>>>>

People are still talking about your spay-neuter holiday greeting from last year, "Deck the Halls with Balls of Collies."

-- Author Unknown

Ways To Know You Are Doing Too Many Rescues

1. Your friends remark about your unique dog-fur seat covers.

2. A friend asks you if you want to go for a Sunday drive and you say you have to check the transport list first.

3. Your engine starts knocking so you pour a bottle of Rescue Remedy in the gas tank.

4. You get stopped for having illegally tinted windows and the officer does not believe those are nose prints.

5. You take your car to the car wash and ask for the flea bath.

6. You take your dog to the groomer but miss the appointment because your dog is still checking out all the strange doggie smells in your car and refuses to get out.

7. You sit down to plan your vacation and you begin dividing the route into legs.

8. You are pulled over for speeding and give the officer your rabies certificate.

9. You schedule your car's preventive maintenance at the Vets.

10. Your boss asks you to make his/her travel arrangements for an upcoming business trip, so you post him/her to all the transport lists.

11. You refer to your favorite Western Bagel shop as the Western Beagle Shop.

12. You open your glove compartment and all you have inside are three dog leashes, a hand full of cat treats, 13 dog biscuits, 1/2 bag of rabbit pellets, two Dog Breed Reference Guides, and a complete list of local Shelters.

13. You find that when other people bring out the kid pics and brag......you whip out the "rescued kids!" and brag!

14. You find that you literally start foaming at the mouth the instant you see an un-neutered dog/cat.

15. You find yourself not only petting your friend's dog or cat......but also doing health and temperament checks.

16. After you have health and temperament checked your friend's pet, you proceed to do a thorough home check!

17. Your "regular" friends refuse to answer the door, phone, or email because of the possibility (make that probability) that you need a foster or forever home for another beastie.

18. You go to call your best friend, and find that you have inadvertently dialed the kennel section of the Animal Shelter!

Yep......we are definitely in need of professional help.

-- Author Unknown

Bassets with Erections Can't Climb Stairs

Each night she's on the balcony, he loves her from afar
His soft, sad eyes are hypnotised, she shines down like a star.
His heart will break forever; his kind can't have affairs
For Bassets with erections can't climb stairs.

His home a humble bungalo and hers a penthouse flat
He cannot go where she can go and that, they say, is that.
He never can be near her, although she knows he cares,
For Bassets with erections can't climb stairs.

You want to win a woman? Just be cool, be aloof
The dog who doesn't hit the stairs can make it to the roof.
The dog who doesn't care will be the dog who wins the day
You'll never get to heaven with your chopper in the way.

The spirit soars, the body falls, and heavy lies the heart
That cries out with the pangs of love, "Be still my broken part" --
How painful is the passion, and how painful the repairs,
For Bassets with erections can't climb stairs.
- author unknown -

My Foster Dog is Beautiful

My foster dog is beautiful. My foster dog stinks to high heaven. I don't know for sure what breed he is. His eyes are blank and hard. He won't let me pet him and growls when I reach for him. He has ragged scars and crusty sores on his skin. His nails are long and his teeth (which he showed me) are stained. I sigh. I drove two hours for this. I carefully maneuver him so I can stuff him in the crate. Then I lift the crate and put it in the car. I am going home with my new foster dog. At home I leave him in the crate till all the other dogs are in the yard. I get him out of the crate and ask him if he wants 'outside'. As I lead him to the door he hikes his leg on the wall and shows me his stained teeth again. When we come in he goes to the crate because that's the only safe place he sees. I offer him food but he won't eat it if I look at him, so I turn my back. When I come back the food is gone. I ask again about 'outside'. When we come back I pat him before I let him in the crate, he jerks away and runs into the crate to show me his teeth. The next day I decide I can't stand the stink any longer. I lead him into the bath with cheese in my hand. His fear of me is not quite overcome by his wish for the cheese. And well he should fear me, for I will give him a bath. After an attempt or two to bail out he is defeated and stands there. I have bathed four legged bath squirmers for more dog years than he has been alive. His only defense was a show of his stained teeth that did not hold up to a face full of water. As I wash him it is almost as if I wash not only the stink and dirt away but also some of his hardness. His eyes look full of sadness now. And he looks completely pitiful as only a soap covered dog can. I tell him that he will feel better when he is cleaned. After the soap the towels are not too bad so he lets me rub him dry. I take him outside. He runs for joy. The joy of not being in the tub and the joy of being clean. I, the bath giver, am allowed to share the joy. He comes to me and lets me pet him. One week later I have a vet bill. His skin is healing. He likes for me to pet him. I think I know what color he will be when his hair grows in. I have found out he is terrified of other dogs. So I carefully introduce him to my mildest four-legged brat. It doesn't go well. Two weeks later a new vet bill for an infection that was missed on the first visit. He plays with the other dogs. Three weeks later he asks to be petted. He chewed up part of the rug. Eight weeks later, his coat shines and he has gained weight. He shows his clean teeth when his tongue lolls out after he plays chase in the yard with the gang. His eyes are soft and filled with life. He loves hugs and likes to show off his tricks, if you have the cheese. Someone called today and asked about him, they saw the picture I took the first week. They asked about his personality, his history, his breed. They asked if he was pretty. I asked them lots of questions. I checked up on them. I prayed. I said yes. When they saw him the first time, they said he was the most beautiful dog they had ever seen. Six months later I got a call from his new family. He is wonderful, smart, well behaved and very loving. How could someone not want him? I told them I didn't know. He is beautiful. (They all are) -Author Unknown

Out OF The Mouths Of Babes

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Blue
Heeler named Belker. The dog's owner - Ron, his wife, Lisa and their little
boy, Shane - were all very attached to Belker and they were hoping for a
miracle.

I examined their pet and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family
there were no miracles left for Belker, and offered to perform the
euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.

As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good
for four-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt Shane could
learn >something from the experience.

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family
surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last
time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few
minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. The little boy seemed to
accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion.

We sat together for a while after Belker's death, wondering aloud about the
sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had
been listening quietly, piped up, "I know why."

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me,
but I'd never heard a more comforting explanation.

He said, "Everybody is born so that they can learn how to live a good
life - like loving everybody and being nice, right?" The four-year-old
continued, "Well, animals already know how to do that, so they don't have to
stay as long." {{{{all our babies ATB}}}}

From Sandy Gaston, Author Unknown