Hey y’all. I hope you had a great holiday, I know we sure did. Our house was filled with family and friends, you ain’t never seen such carryin’ on. We had us eggnog with the family recipe mixed in. There weren’t no unhappy folks at the old homestead. I can guarantee it.
This year Darla decided to surprise me with somethin’ besides the usual tools for the farm, and a new pair of jeans. Although she did get me a right smart pair of jeans since most of mine are well worn in the seat. Anyway, on Christmas day here she walks in with this box and I hear whinin’ comin’ out of it. Sure enough, it was a new puppy. I teared up on account of loosin’ Blue to a pack of coyotes close to Christmas.
I looked inside the box all excited, and I saw the oddest lookin’ creature God ever placed on this here earth. Darla said he was a rescue, but I’m not sure you can save this poor fella. Accordin’ to the pound his momma was a Basset Hound, and the father was a British Bulldog. Now a Basset normally has its ears and tongue mostly grown out when they are born, so they ain’t too graceful, to begin with, but this poor fella had the jaw of a bulldog. His markin’s look like a Basset with white, blond and black, and there’s just a hint of gray. His long tail has a slight curve to it, so he slaps hisself when he starts waggin’.
Now don’t get me wrong, that little guy will melt your old heart, but mercy he is hard on the house. Most Bassets will trip over their tongues and ears when they are small. This little guy has the added challenge of keepin’ his mouth hangin’ open and tongue hangin’ out most of the time, and it ain’t no ordinary tongue. That’s gotta be the longest and broadest tongue I ever did see. Even for a puppy, there is an excessive amount of drool. It just sort of rolls down that long tongue, and lands on whatever part of the floor he’s on. He’s trippin’ and rollin’ over that old tongue or them long ears all day long. So, I decided to name him Wobbly. Darla said that name weren’t too respectful, but I told her it was a might kinder than callin’ him Goofy.
Well, as everyone knows, it has been really cold all over lately. We’ve even had ice and snow around here recently. It ain’t unheard of in the winter, even in the south, but in these here temperatures, everything freezes to any sort of moisture. Because of this, I reckon I should have made other arrangements than goin’ outside to start house breakin’ Wobbly. You ever do somethin’ out of habit cause you don’t feel like thinkin’?
So, our first day of potty trainin’ didn’t go as planned. First off, Wobbly is a boy, but he has short goofy legs. I reckon that’s on account of Bassets and Bulldogs have such short legs. So that poor fella, he can’t lift his leg even if he wants to. I imagine it’s gonna be might embarassin’ if he ever has to go around other dogs. On top of that, he can’t get in the yard without help on account of the deck steps. Now those stairs ain’t gonna be an issue when he’s bigger, but Wobbly just sort of falls and rolls if he tries it on his own now.
So there we were out in the cold mornin’, both of us ’bout to freeze. I’m holdin’ Wobbly in one gloved hand and tryin’ to hold the deck rail with my other gloved hand so I don’t slip and send us both tumblin’. It was so cold my face done turned numb before I reached the yard, and that was with my hood up! I put Wobbly on the ground and he’s whimpering on account of the icy ground, but I stay strong and tell him he ain’t goin’ nowhere ’til he does his business.
Well, it turns out I should of listened to that pup a might more closely. He wasn’t just cold. Seems he did do a little bit, but not enough. You know its cold was the water comin’ out of ya will freeze in ’bout a minute. That poor fella had his tenderest spot froze to the ground. Now don’t go gettin’ mad at me, cause I had no idea. From my point of view, he just seemed to be sittin’ there complainin’.
I guess what happened next is sort of my fault. The little fella panicked and tried to run. Well with his whoopin’ and slippin’ over that long tongue. He got a fair amount of drool all over the pink floppin’ bovine size thing, and it kept hittin’ the ground. Yep, it eventually stuck right there. Sadly, that big mouth with all that slobberin’ on it didn’t help. Wobbly falls on his head and now his tongue and lip are both stuck, not to mention that other thing. I am all in a panic, afraid Wobbly is gonna hurt himself. I holler for Darla and she sticks her head out. As usual, she knows just what to do. She brings out some warm water and we get the little fella free.
Now Wobbly is okay, but he don’t want nothin’ to do with goin’ out in the yard. You’d think he was allergic to fresh air with his commotion. Poor fella, I’ll say let’s go outside and he’ll try to run, but instead trips, rolls, whines, and does it all over again ’till I can catch him and calm him down. I can’t say I blame him. I tried to teach him to use a catbox. Wobbly is a smart little fella and actually started usin’ it. But then I noticed him trying to get sand off his tongue later that day. So, that ain’t happenin’. Now, it’s newspapers in the laundry room.
I’m hopin’ once we get past this nasty weather I can get that little fella back outside. He just needs to feel some grass under his belly that ain’t frozen. Well, that and some longer legs, bless his heart.
Y’all stay warm and be good.