Thursday Night Basset Blogging

I miss Satchmo.

I haven’t been feeling  well these past few weeks.  During the Golden Age of Satchmo, on days when I wasn’t feeling so hot, I knew I could always flake out on the bed and wrap myself around Satch and his warmth and his calm always made me feel , if not better, I guess more comfortable. Satchmo was  extraordinarily soft and his deep regular breathing hypnotized you into calmly  breathing along with him; kind of like yoga but without the stupid poses with the stupid names. Pretty soon you would  forget what ailed you…

Beckham just isn’t the snuggly type; he’ll lean up against you but you know that it’s really all about him. Fenway is just too puppy-caffeinated; snuggling up to him is like trying to snuggle up to a tuning fork during a particularly  violent earthquake. Don’t let the pictures below fool you, even in sleep he’s restless.

Since all I could get was pictures of the boys in repose, this week we have a guest basset, Fred, who belongs to Gene Lyons. Fred is proof that bassets are too good for something.

Well, at least other people’s bassets are…

Yes. Fenway is showing off his junk again…