Judging from that expression, Fenway seems to be having an existential crisis. What have you been doing to him to bring this on?

Indeed, House of Bogg, one can only sleep in one bed at a time, and they already had theirs…

I can tell you what the dogs were thinking. “They bought themselves places to sit and lie down…’bout time!”

A local basset named Betty hit the news this week. Betty the basset hound lifts patients’ spirits The photos…TO.DIE.FOR.

Betty’s people (whose surname is Elves) have photos of bassets all over their living room…like a scene out of Amelie.

I’m not sure you’ve been honest with us, Fenway’s thousand yard stare suggests you are actually a crazy old cat lady with a coupla dogs on the side.

It can’t be easy keeping every single one of your 47 cats out of the picture frame – it’s time you started sharing those photobombs.

Fenway gets cold really easily so he tends to sleep on the bed under all of the blankets with just his nose peeking out. But the second that Tbogg gets up from the desk chair, he is out of the bed and in the chair. The chair under the window occupied by Wembley is primarily used as a perch from which to bark hysterically at anything/one that goes down the alley. It, however, has the best afternoon sun so it is also a favorite spot for charging basset batteries. We will let you know when we have officially given up and moved to the afore-mentioned dog beds. I don’t think it’s too far down the line….

Careful, Mrs. T, Pierre Boulle warned us about this! Like the apes, they will wear you down until eventually apathy sets in, and the next thing you know, Fenway and Wembley have set you up in straw lined cells, feeding you nothing but old Hostess products and water.

In fact, looking at the photo of Fenway, he has the same self-aware look in his eye that Caesar had. It’s happening! You maniacs, you finally did it! God damn you, damn you all to hell…. !

I was just thinking the solution would be for Mr. Bogg to actually curl up in one of the beds, creating a desire for something with reverse psychology. Might just work! (cue Mrs. Bogg with the camera…)

I can’t tell you how charming I find it that Mrs refers to him as “Tbogg”. Sort of like those ancient empire couples in the 7th arrondisement of Paris who use “Vous” to each other, or that woman on the Real Housewives of New York who referred to her husband as “The Count”, even, you got the impression, when they were alone and face to face, as it were, which led to wonderfully who’s-on-firstian imagery:

“Oh Count…. Count…”

“One… two.. three….. four…”

“What?”

“What?”

So, in your house, a ‘dog bed’ is a black leather office chair? Interesting.

Even though you (finally) broke down and bought the kids their own beds, it appears Fenway still haz a considerable sad. You might want to throw in some sirloin snacks to seal the deal.

Poor little emaciated children. It’s a wonder they don’t tie little hobo packs on their backs, head down to the rail-yards, and hop a freight train outta town…

If those short-leeged beasts are willing to bite Ross Doucheate in the balls, GOOD on them. I’ll buy the mouthwash and tetnus shots!

Sublime… as it were, so to speak.

Wait…is that armrest behind Fenway part of a $2,500 Human Touch recliner???

If so, Tbogg, you bought the boys the bestest bassett beds ever!!!

Excellent photo! Reminiscent of a Philip Pearlstein painting, but warmer.

I hear you. Our rescued toy poodle/bichan slept in our bed when we got her last Thanksgiving (you click the link and you ask yourself “who rescued who?”). It’s been a year and let’s just say not much has changed except she’s taken a liking to the couch as well.

In mt experience, Bassett hounds only have a sad expression; we’re not talking about the happy mouths of German Shepherds or manic expressions of Chihuahuas.

They’ll come in handy when the twins come to visit. You can’t fit bassinetts in an overhead and the baggage fees from NYC might prove prohibative.

I thought bassinetts were just small bassets.

That sounds very Romneyesque if so.

Adorable. I read the post with the sweet pic…did she recover her eyesight? How could you not keep her?

The dogz above are, as usual, gorgeous. so thoughful.
Love Mrs TBogg’s image of Fenway (so cold in …San Diego!!!) leaping from under the covers to occupy the just-vacated office chair.
Made my Thursday evening, as usual.

That picture is a classic.
If the Barking Dogs did an emo album, this could be the cover.

My bed, my office.
Is there some confusion here?
It’s so logical.

I recognize John Boehner, but who’s the one in the background?