D
Vautier
11/2000
Bassets are the most perfectly designed tripping machines ever made. They love to go to sleep in doorways, under chairs and tables, in hallways, exactly on the second step on stairways, and in any other location where they can inflict the maximum possible carnage. Not only that but they are just the right size to become totally invisible if you happen to be carrying something like a laundry basket, a bag of groceries, a plate full of hot french-fries, a beer, a milkshake, a pile of books, or a bag of garbage. Perfect!
These dogs are particularly effective when it comes to carrying bags of garbage. When you step on a cat it somehow sort of melts away like Jell-O (that is of course, after the customary loud blood-curdling shriek). But in the case of cats, stepper and steppee soon forget the incident and the cat returns to its normal disinterested and erstwhile lounging ways.
Not so with a basset, which is
built solid like a brick outhouse with heavy bones and unyielding flesh,
perfectly designed for the task of being stepped on.
In our house you can find all kinds of
things to trip over. There's squirt guns, extra computer cables, wet
towels, misplaced dog bowels, TV controllers, blankets, pillows,
cats, baskets of laundry. But
the worst is the ever-present and ever-moving basset hound.
Some time ago I submitted a plan to the Department of Defense to airdrop about a million basset hounds into Afghanistan. In this way the Taliban would have been so busy falling down and tripping over the dogs that they couldn't fight or retreat at all. My plan was rejected.