Is a blog every 2 years sufficient? ...and in that time the dogs changed. My velveteen mama basset succumbed to cancer. My showgirl PBGV died in the night after a short illness. She was 15, so it was not unexpected.

I now live with a 14 year old creaky cocker who can't hear, is incontinent, riddled with fatty tumors and rheumy eyes. Yet, he is dog happy--waggles his stub, gobbles with relish and sticks to me like velcro--which is particularly difficult as I bound up and down my three floors.

The backup pooch is another basset--a very handsome boy mistreated in West Virginia and rescued from a beating by the cops then turned over to BROOD, the local basset rescue. They cleaned him up; I fattened him up a bit, and now he's a barky, loving gem. They both reside at my feet as I type. I can almost forget the losses.