Mabel Grace
Short and sweet was Mabel; short and sweet was our time together. Two weeks short of a year was all we had together; 351 days for a splash course in Basset Hounds. And, Mabel had a lot to teach me. Mabel taught me that Basset Hounds are irresistible. Living alone I would often talk to Mabel. She would stand close by and wag her tail as I chatted away. One day I thought I saw her nod her head as I was asking if she agreed with me. I nodded my head and said, “Isn’t that right, Mabel?” and she nodded her head ever so slightly. I wasn’t sure that I had actually seen her do it, so I kept up my dialogue with her and noticed that she did it again! OMG! Mabel actually nodded her head! It was a subtle movement, but during her short time with me, Mabel would always provide her positive encouragement during these one-sided conversations. Mabel taught me just how cute she could be. Mabel taught me not to underestimate her intelligence. She might be slow in body, but not in mind. I believe that Mabel would tell you that I was easy to train. I no longer needed an alarm. Mabel had the uncanny ability to wake me up every day, including weekends, before 5 a.m. She would stand by my bed and talk in a low, husky-voiced huffy-grunt. (I always thought that, if Mabel were a human, she would have a smoky-whiskey sounding voice like Marlena Dietrich). Breakfast was expected by 6 a.m. or she made formal complaints. The complaints came in the form of more huffy-grunts and head butting. On Saturdays and Sundays I complained to Mabel that, someday when she was no longer around, I wouldn’t miss her 5 a.m. wake-up calls. Mabel taught me how wrong I can be. Mabel enjoyed a walk, but the number of steps taken was not integral to the quality of a walk. The importance of a walk was the number of scents found and scents savored. Exploration of a 2 foot square area could take 10 minutes and could not be rushed. Mabel taught me that there are many ways to enjoy a walk. Mabel had bunny soft fur, especially on her chest and a little spot behind her ears. Mabel would shed in clumps. I’d never seen a dog shed like Mabel; it was like she molted. Mabel had the most beautiful markings and pretty, dainty feet. Her coloring was like a beautiful piece of oak and she had markings around her eyes that looked like running mascara. Mabel taught me that being irresistible helped mitigate some of the less appealing aspects of hounds. Howling? Mabel never howled. Smell? Controllable with good grooming. And, Mabel felt that a full spa treatment was her God given right. She never fussed when I bathed, brushed, cleaned ears and anal glands. She wasn’t too happy with nail clipping and dental hygiene, but took it in stride. Mabel liked to be a well-groomed Basset Hound. Drooling? Not so bad. So many traits are easy to overlook when you are so adorable. She had a lot to teach me. Mabel managed to dig herself deeply into my heart in the 50 weeks that she shared her life with me. Her cancer came back in another form, without revealing itself to me or my vet. On November 5th, I knew something was wrong with Mabel, but I thought it was something to do with the pain of her arthritis or weak hips. I had an appointment scheduled with my vet for Monday and thought I could wait. Mabel taught me that some things just won’t wait. Mabel came to me with not much of a back story. She was a stray and only 7 months of her back story was known to GGBR, and even that was limited. Someone gave her guidance and good care sometime during her life because she had beautiful house manners and had a loving, trusting disposition. Mabel was so much of a character - a grand dame and a special treasure, that I gave her a second name “Grace”. I’ve had the good fortune to have had several wonderful dogs in my lifetime, but Mabel Grace was very special and she holds a special place in my heart. Mabel grá mo chroí, (love of my heart), may you rest in peace. I’ll never forget you, my darling girl. (Diana Riley)

Molly
I had wanted a dog for as long as I could remember. One day early in 2005 when I was still unemployed after a year, I was sitting at the computer searching craigslist for jobs. I was so frustrated with the process, just for relief, I moved over and clicked on Pets. There were two ads for free dogs. One was for a mixed breed, but I thought it looked too big. The other ad was for two basset hounds — a younger male and an older female. (My friend had encouraged me to act on my dream of getting a dog — “Get an older dog,” she said, “they sleep all day!”) I went to see the two bassets and got excited, but my rental agreement said No Pets, and I had yet to approach my landlady. I phoned back just 24 hours later and the dogs had already been turned over to rescue! The people gave me a phone number, and the next thing I knew I was talking to Gloria! She listened to me and said she thought it sounded like I needed a “starter dog,” then told me about Molly. When I went to see Molly at her foster home in Davis, she walked into the formal living room to meet me, leaned her body against my leg, then flopped over and showed me her beautiful polka-dotted tummy. That was it - I was hooked! Several weeks later, when I realized the scope and significance of Molly’s severe separation anxiety, I knew the wisest decision would be to give her back. Because I was totally in love with her (I had never known how much a person could love a dog!), I cried for three days straight. In the end I couldn’t give her up; instead, I adapted. Molly made people happy. When we took walks, cars would slow and people would yell, “Gorgeous dog!” (women), “Cool dog!” (boys), “Great dog!” (men). Pedestrians would break into a smile, then stop and pet her (Molly expected it from everyone!). Over the years I have thought about my own obituary and what I would want to say about my life. Now I know that if my life “touches” even half the lives Molly’s touched, I’ll be proud. If I bring joy to half the people Molly brought joy to, I’ll be very proud. My incredible Molly — my “starter dog” — how will I ever learn to live without you?!!! - Carol Schalla