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The computer in the bedroom is set-up to run a slide-show before it goes into sleep mode and since I have thousands of dog pictures we get a basset show every night before going to sleep. As if they don’t dominate every other waking moment of our lives.
The other night it must have run off about thirty consecutive Satchmo pictures and we got got to talking about him and what a special dog he was and how the others will probably never be him, through no fault of their own… the big stupid beasts. One thing they don’t do is howl. Beckham used to howl but only when following Satchmo’s lead, now it’s just barking and lots of it. All we ever get out of Fenway is "roo-roo" which is about the extent of his vocabulary. Big stupid beast.
So I went digging through the pictures for Satchmo’s howl and found this sequence:
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As silly as it sounds, being the Intertubes and all, I tear up looking at these photos.
The first time I laid eyes on Satch I was in love – and I don’t mean the perverted furrie love Republicans seem to be fond of – but honest to goodness normal human adoration for the Cutest Basset Evar. Satchmo’s perpetually vacant Thurber-dog expression and deep set liquid brown eyes – as in photo number one – stole my heart and gave me many chuckles.
Yeah, if I had your dogs, I’d probably be an even happier gal.
It has always truly warmed my heart that you seemed to have almost the same connection to Satchmo that we did. And it was all in the eyes. He will always have a huge piece of our hearts and he will be the first one I look for at the Rainbow Bridge. Thank you for seeing the “Saint” in him!
I, too, felt a pinch at the heart at these wonderful pictures of the Old Gentleman. I especially like the third pic–looks like Pavarotti reaching for the High C.
We had a beloved old Labrador who used to sing with the coyotes in our small-town Oklahoma back yard.
Mrs. TBogg, it’s impossible to see a hammy face like his and not be overwhelmed with affection. I’m certain many other Thursday Basset Blogging afficionados are as in love with him as me. I just tend to gush aloud more than other people who have greater self control.
P.S. God, it just occurred to me that first pic could be the basset version of The Mona Lisa! Hahaha.
I could practically hear the majestic basso profundo of that howl.
I cried when I read about Satchmo’s death. I felt like I knew him, even though I only knew him through your site. I’ve lost beloved Bassets too, and I know how hard it is. I have found I come to appreciate each one for his/her unique qualities, though it sometimes takes a while.
Because my young daughter often looks over my shoulder when I am catching up on blogs, she saw the photo of Satchmo back when I was reading the post about his passing. She asked about him (and why I had tears in my eyes), and I briefly explained.
Now, there is a 6-year-old girl in Norway who happily calls out “Satchmo!” every time she spies a basset hound.
Satchmo was such a mad charmer. How odd it is to miss someone else’s dog.
What a great dog. Vive le Satchmo.
our first basset of 14 years, beatrice eudora lee, would howl at the drop of a hat.
of the current 2, scooter will howl at the slightest sound of a siren, but falstaff has never howled.
until… my husband was trying out a new effects pedal (guitar) the other day and falstaff walked up, sat down, and made this quiet low howl. at first we thought we imagined it. then, he did it again. it was beautiful and we lavished him with praises and goodies. i hope he treats us to another performance.
So that’s where the phrase, “full-throated” comes from. He was such a great dog.
Ding-ding-ding! Basset alert! You’re needed at http://pureflorida.blogspot.com/.
We’ve never seen our Maltese howl, but whenever my wife and I leave the house at the same time, the minute we turn the key to lock the door, the mournful sound can be heard.
Judging from the sequence of photos, I’m guessing that Satchmo could be gotten to howl on cue, or else the photographer was patiently awaiting the right moment.
I should add that I mean no disrespect in speculating that Satchmo could howl on cue…
Tbogg, have you tried howling yourself? The dogs might join in. I used to begin howling at my dog and she would join me. Good times!
Playing a harmonica sometimes works, too.
Yeah, but sometimes you just wind up with a basset who plays harmonica.
What a distinguished oldster that Satchmo was. It is odd to miss a dog that I never met, but there it is.
And next thing you know, they’re singing “Desolation Row.”
Heh, I named my childhood basset Beatrice, too. Beatrice Lilliput, she was. My kitten, Constance, slept under her ears.
Love the name Falstaff! Ah, bassets.
http://ihasahotdog.com/2009/06…..on-basset/
Something you will relate to.
Hey, TB, is someone swiping from your stash?
Dammit! Sorry. I just saw the comment before my first one. Oh, well, worth clicking twice.
One of the first things I do when I get to the office on Friday is check the pictures of the boyz. I had a long and unpleasant task facing me this morning, so imagine how deep was my pleasure to see our beloved Satchmo–and not just Satch, but a Satchmo action feature. It lightened my load, and of course it touched my heart. As somebody already said, people all over this country who never met him still miss the old gent. Thank you so much.