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Our first family dog was a Basset hound. We had taken in a lost little rain-soaked dog. Initially, I kept him in the garage. I called the dog pound and the local animal shelter. I described the dog and told them where he had been found.

Little lost dog (his temporary name) came inside when the kids got home from school. They obviously loved the dog and had fun playing with him. My husband and I talked about it and decided the kids were ready for a dog. We had Little Lost Dog over the weekend and when the owners showed up at the door, we didn't want to give him up.

After the dog was gone, we told the kids that we were thinking of getting a dog. They all thought that was a great idea. But, what breed would be best? We were leaving for a two-week vacation trip so we put off the decision until we came home.

We traveled from Minnesota to Colorado and back and it seemed like everywhere we went we saw Basset hounds. We stopped to see friends in Kansas and they had a Basset hound. When we got home, neighbors had a new Basset puppy. I guess the decision was made for us.

I called the shelter and they had a Basset up for adoption. We called the family who was fostering the Basset and settled on a time to go and see the dog. When we got there the door opened and there was the Basset hound right out of a breed book. He was perfect. Then we were told that the one up for adoption was in the back. He whistled and a dog came running. Five jaws dropped at the sight of this dog. His head was huge and his body was so emaciated his ribs were visible.

My son said, "I think he needs us." We took Basil (our name for him) home and set about fattening him up. We did a bang up job. He filled out and still had lots of skin hanging everywhere. If he looked down from the top of the stairs, all those wrinkles cascaded down over the top of his head. He was a great dog.

For some reason, I thought Bassets didn't shed. I thought wrong, very wrong. Basil had two coats like all Bassets. His coat was coarse hair not soft fur. I thought grooming would be minimal. Again, I was very wrong.

He didn't need to be brushed because he shed so much. His hair would weave its way into the fabric on the navy blue couch in the family room. I had to pluck that couch to get those stiff hairs out of the fabric. By the time I got to one end, Basil was lounging on the other. I could have kept him off the furniture but he was a part of the family. Plus, this was Minnesota and a warm Basset draped over your lap is better

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