There's not enough room in this apartment for the three of us.

I watched my brother's bassett hound Bo this past week. I would like to say right off the bat that I really like Bo. He's mellow, sweet, funny, and so good with my puppy that I can almost get past the drool. Yeah, the drool. I could dedicate an entire post to Bo's drool alone. I swear that drool has mythical properties including omnipresence: you do NOT want to put your hand under his mouth EVER, unless you enjoy getting covered with slime; and indestructability: Bo drooled on the back seat of my car 5 days ago and it's still there in its original form.

The following is a close up of Austen's bed after Bo slept on it a few times. Those white spots you see are the drool he left behind. I don't yet know if his super drool can be removed by simple human means, but I'll keep you posted.



I must say that there were some really fun things that happened during my week of Bo. He and Austen have a pretty adorable bromance going based almost entirely on the fact that Bo isn't in the least annoyed by my very annoying puppy. Unlike my parents' dog Charlie who is REALLY annoyed by him


(**actual footage of Charlie being annoyed by Austen)

They spent a lot of time playing and sleeping in each other's beds



Chewing on and stealing one another's rawhide



and just generally having a great time with each other.

Sounds just rosy, doesn't it? For the most part it really wasn't bad at all. But there were a few things that helped me to know that I'm a one dog woman, and that dog won't ever be a bassett.

Reason #1: The drool. I've already mentioned this, so I don't need to go into detail here.

Reason #2: Bassett poo is REALLY REALLY big. You'll be happy to know that I don't have photographic evidence. Just trust me on this one.

Reason #3: Bassetts are REALLY REALLY strong. Add to that their phenomenal sense of smell, proximity to the ground, and stubborness, and you've got two sore shoulders after 1 week of walks.

Reason #4: Bassett hounds are HOUNDS (duh!) and with hounds you have barking. And more barking. And finally some barking. At night I had to cover Bo's bed with a black sheet so that he didn't bark at every flicker of the outdoor security lights of my condo complex.

Reason #5: Bassetts are just too darn long. Yeah, I said long. I know this sounds strange coming from a girl who owns a corgi, but I offer you the following photographic evidence:



see what I mean?

Reason #6: I am apparently able to only watch one dog at any given time. You see, not long ago, Bo tried to kill himself by biting off and swallowing the knot end of a rope chew toy. You'd think he'd have learned something from this whole ordeal, contemplated the precious gift of life and all that, but maybe his depression over never being able to keep up with the beagles at the dog park or having ears long enough to trip over got to him or something, because he tried to kill himself last week at my house by eating a wash cloth. Luckily (ha!) he barfed it up on my livingroom carpet. This is clearly proof that I can only effectively watch one dog at any given time.

So, even though my boy is moping around the house two days post Bo's visit, and is bugging the crap out of me to throw his ball against the front door for the 5,000th time today, he's just going to have to deal with being an only dog. There's just not enough room in this one bedroom apartment for the three of us.