It was National Dog Day on Monday and we celebrated by buying Daisy Duke a new sweatshirt. It didn’t go as well as we had hoped.
The shirt’s tag said the size was large and there was even a picture of a hound on the package. It didn’t come close to fitting our bloodhound, and she’s on the small side of her breed.
Still, we squeezed her into it.
She didn’t like it one bit, and she let us know it in no uncertain terms.
If looks could kill …
As it turns out, Daisy Duke doesn’t care much for fashion. She looked cute in her new apparel, but apparently she’s quite content in her birthday suit, especially since her loose skin is a much more comfortable fit than this tight shirt she was being forced to wear.
The good news was that we were receptive to her mood and didn’t make her wear it for long.
Attempting to take the sweatshirt off turned into a game and she finally appreciated the garment as soon as she got it in her mouth and began running around the deck.
National Dog Day was still a big day in our house, mostly because every day is National Dog Day in our house.
The dogs run the place, as anybody who ever stops by or calls can tell you. From 4:30 a.m., when they typically wake up expecting to be immediately fed, until they finally settle down for the evening, not much happens in the house without taking the dogs into consideration.
We don’t even have a doorbell on our front door. There’s no need. Before you make it up the steps to the front porch, a greeting committee will be howling and barking.
Daisy Duke will be the loudest. When a bloodhound’s bay means business, you notice.
Everything turns into a toy with Daisy Duke, even parts of the house. She was recently seen running through the yard with something strange hanging out of her mouth. She has a whole yard full of balls and toys, but this looked different.
After we finally managed to catch her, we found out she had ripped the dryer vent off the side of the house and was proudly parading it around the yard. In her world, it was just another toy, kind of like the 20-foot section of drainage pipe she pulled out of the storage shed. Luckily, that wasn’t being used. The dryer vent was, though.
Nothing is safe with this destructive creature. We’d let her sleep with us, but we’re afraid we might wake up without a bed. She tends to eat whatever she can get into her mouth.
Earlier, we thought our hound might be broken. She’s supposed to have the keenest sense of smell, yet there she was 20 feet away from a rabbit and she had absolutely no idea.
We even pointed and encouraged, knowing full well that our clumsy canine wouldn’t be able to catch the rabbit even is she saw it.
The rabbit eventually saw us and took off for the low hanging trees and brush in the back corner of our yard. Daisy Duke eventually caught a whiff and headed that way.
When the rabbit sprinted out of the brush, took a left turn and disappeared between the pickets in the fence, our fearless hunter came running out as well. The only problem was Daisy Duke turned right, sniffing excitedly along the entire route the rabbit took — going in the wrong direction.
She’s not the most reliable tracker, but she sure is fun to watch.
They say bloodhounds remain puppies for two years, longer than most breeds. Well Daisy Duke turns two next month and we have a feeling the puppy-like craziness is far from over. We’re interested in finding out. So far, the ride has been a fun one. There’s never a dull moment.