The morning after....

( Lewis , Monty and pal Madge. They know how to party)

I always seem to begin the Boys Blog with an apology. Well folks the latest edition is no different, ( at least we are consistent!).  A myriad of lost passwords and a collection of sausage shaped fingers has led to a drought on the update front. 

I have previously written at length about the Hounds ability to completely ignore me.Their ability to choose the routes they want to walk and to take as long as they like sniffing lampposts and other dogs. For those people owned by Bassets (yes that is the right way round) I am sure you are completely use to this. In recent weeks however they seemed to have turned a corner. Yes at three and a half years old they are nearly doing some things I say. Okay that doesn't sound much, but 'nearly' is massive leaps and bounds. There are of course exceptions to this:~

I have always asked the Hounds to "WAIT" when I fastening leads to their collars. Ordinarily Lewis would look at Monty and walk off just as I got the lead clasp to his collar. Monty had this off to a fine art. He would look around to make sure that he had an audience. The command would follow, "WAIT." Audience in place Monty would wait until I was close then simply walk off. He would stand about twelve feet from me and sit and stare. When I was completely red faced shouting for him to "come" he would simply walk straight past me. Of course this would result in the maximum impact from the "audience" which usually consisted of local kids who of course thought he was hilarious. Spurred on the comedy duo would carry on ignoring me and walking off to maximise the applause and general shouts of support. Laurel and Hardy of the Basset world. 

Other "hilarious gags" the Hounds have pulled off include:~

• Completing a 5 mile walk through woodland and waiting till they got home to poo on the front lawn. 
•  Hiding in the bedroom game whilst dad frantically searches streets for his "escaped Bassets." 
• Waiting till Dad gets in the shower and stealing underwear that was neatly placed on warm radiator game. This includes the very helpful game of removing gloves from the radiator and hiding one game. ( I am currently wearing one grey one and one black one , thankfully they left me a left and right). I must look great. 
• Oh yes, I nearly forget and they have a favourite. They have their own sofa in the kitchen dining area. By no means a shabby one at that. It is an 'L' shaped design and leather (yes I know...) and takes up enough room to seat six adults comfortably. Or it should.......What it actually seats is two Bassets that stretch out to about nine feet long each  and who both refuse flatly to move at the hint of anyone else getting a portion of that sofa. Lewis actively shuffles his body around so that he is flat on his back with his four legs akimbo like some some sort of Basset starfish. He is huge. Not fat huge because he isn't, just downright huge. He lies there like someone has just dropped him out of a helicopter and he landed like that when the 'chute opened. You could bring a fork lift in and it wouldn't budge him. Monty conversely manages to pile cushions and perch at the top like he is looking down at loyal subjects. He also moves for no man. That is unless....

Unless.... Dad nods off on the 'green sofa' in the living room. Yes the "green sofa." They know it's called that because that's how I refer to it. IE " NO NO NO you are NOT allowed on the GREEN SOFA." It is the last refuge of Basset immunity. The final resting place away from hairs and dribbling hounds. Under no circumstances are they allowed near it. Sit in front of it, stare at it, yes. Sit on it, NO WAY. They know this of course. They know this so much that it has become their life long ambition to get on it. The fact that they can't have it simply makes it that much more attractive. The scheme and plot between them. I wouldn't care it is not as comfortable as theirs and MUCH smaller. It isn't near a radiator and they can't see out of a window from it. All that doesn't matter. They can't have it so they must simply have it.  

Now perhaps its an age thing or perhaps it was the odd pint of ale that I had consumed but one night recently  ( or more likely the hopeless TV that was on), I nodded off on the green sofa. The hounds were already asleep on their sofa and it was quite late. I can only have been out for about 15 minutes when the Hounds launched Operation Take~ofa~Sofa. I'll sweat they must have been sleeping with one eye open each. Normally they flop off their sofa with a resounding "thwump" usually followed by a yawn and a bit of scratching. Not this night or no...they must have slipped off that sofa like a couple of Basset Ninjas.  I had dropped to one side on MY sofa and was fast asleep almost certainly dreaming of obedient dogs. The first I remember was a feeling of being very hot. The second was a tightness on my chest. There was also a particular odour. That particular Basset odour. Not really dirty, just a bit sweaty and a bit, well doggy and musty. The heat was a direct result of Lewis positioning himself on top of my chest. His nose was approximately 6mm from my mouth and he was snoring hot air directly onto me. They must have had a bit of a tussle between them because Monty (not to be outdone) had lain flt on the top of my head and curled his head around also to face me. It was like wearing some bizarre Basset hat. They had done it, they had finally made the green sofa. In fact they did get off it quite gracefully and without any objections. They didn't care. They had their fifteen minutes of fame. I had a sweaty head and smelt like a dog bed.

I may just sleep on their sofa ...just to annoy them!