Seeing eye basset

By dog mom Barb Ayers,   Surf Dog Diaries

Old Elvis lumbers by, on 2-inch tall basset hound legs, gut nearly scraping the floor. Toenails tap dance across hundred-year hardwoods.

Super low, super slow, he thoughtfully carries his old, sweet soul. He is free with his heart in a way humans wish we could be.

He waddles with purpose to his sleeping bro, Dude, and nudges the dreamer awake. 

Onward they go, toward the promise of day.

They doddle toward the door and the great outdoors - the symphony of smells and back-scratching grass, places to play and places to pee. 

The long, dark hallway is no biggie for Elvis. For Dude, it’s pitch black. This rescue dog is eyeless.

The basset goes first, blazing a scent trail the beagle can follow with his eyes closed.

Dude stumbles a little, bumping the wall - and Elvis is there. Solid, patient, old soul and all, nudging him on. They’re intimate without words - how I wish we could share.

“Elvis, Dude, wanna go outside, go potty?”

Elvis turns back - saggy blood shot eyes, and gives me the look. 

Sometimes words just get in the way.

And off they go, into the light. Seeing Eye Basset and his best friend in life.

SurfDog Diaries graphic-Elvis, Dude and Tia .jpg