There are two bassets on my floor, and I’d be lying if I said that was part of the original plan.
The original plan had a dog called Hart, and a house that was too small for two dogs. The next step of the plan was to build a new house with wonderful, basset-friendly features, such as low windows and a dog run that was just out the back door of the garage. By this time, Hart was already 8 years old…and by the time he would have been 12, Sonja would be 19 and Elena 16, and the doors of parental freedom would be open that much wider, and the idea was that we would be ready to be a family without a dog. After all, the kids would now be busy with more stuff, and we would be way, way past the stage in our lives where we needed a puppy.
The heartbreak that still bubbles to the surface; there was supposed to be an antidote for that by the name of Odin. But Hart was Hart, and Odin is Odin, and oh dear, this is beginning to look like a set up. Because without that dog named Hart, there wouldn’t be an Odin, and there most certainly wouldn’t be a Loki. Because that wasn’t part of the plan. Elena said to me, “Mom, will one more basset take us farther away from Hart?” And the answer, of course, is that time takes you farther away from everything, but to continue to appreciate the basset opportunities life presents to us, is to remember and encourage the basset love that began with a heart of gold.
So here is the new plan, in which there are two bassets on my floor. I love having two bassets on my floor, under my feet and in my heart. And that tear that just fell outta my eye reminds me of the basset that started it all.