My hound dogs

Meet Elvis (sitting up) and Marilyn (lying down). This is their baby picture.

Marilyn is no longer with us. She was hit by a car a couple of years ago. When the two of them were together they would roam the entire valley chasing rabbits.

My bride has pretty much ruined Elvis. He rarely ventures far from home, in fact he rarely leaves the couch anymore. Yes, this fine specimen of a hunting dog has become a house dog.

He's a great dog, but dumb as a post... which is part of his charm (what was this about dogs taking after their owners?) The best thing I can say about him becoming a house dog is that he's the finest alarm clock I've ever had. Between seven and seven-thirty every morning without fail (if I'm not already awake), he will stand in the bedroom doorway and thump his tail against the door jamb until I let him out. He has never made a mess in the house, rarely barks in the house and leaves sweetie's cats alone (outside, they are fair game).

He's actually fat now. Whoever heard of a fat hound dog?

The funniest thing he's ever done is teach sweetie's chi-weenie rat dog how to "sing." One of the funniest things I've ever seen in my life was Elvis, Yellow Dawg (sweetie's big yellow lab) and Lucky (Rat dog) sitting in a row on their haunches howling at a train.