Where's Maggie?

Maggie is pretty much in shape with her inner-Zen self. She doesn't find any cause for extraneous activity. She believes in doing what needs to be done in order survive, all the while maintaining a fairly meditative state. Please don't assume that snoring sound coming from her is indicative of deep sleep. Maggie would like it known that Basset Hound snores and Basset Hound ohms are almost indistinct. Of course, Lars and I can tell the difference but it took years of paying attention and a couple of hurt feelings ("Maggie, for Pete's sake, yer not doin' anything!") along the way before we sufficiently trained ourselves to note the difference.

We are talking about meditating dogs now, aren't we?

Sheesh, I can't say for sure anymore.

Mostly, Maggie is meditative.

But sometimes she catches a scent . . .

from over there . . .

and being a hound dog, she feels compelled to follow it.

All too often, before we know it, Maggie and her nose are gone!

We look in all her favorite places, like her queen size bed . . .

her corner of the sofa . . .

and in the little nest she's made in the ivy underneath our orange tree.

The thing about Basset Hounds is that just when you think you know them, just when you go ahead and say something about Basset Hounds out loud -- "oh that little Magdalena Humphindinkleheimer is a creature of habbit" . . . well, you end up being wrong.

Turns out, Maggie Beast likes to shake it up. So, after an hour of searching and tearfully calling for her, she's found in the shade of the trampoline -- deeply meditative.

Although, it's not unheard of to 'lose' her to a pile of freshly washed clothes that are waiting to be folded and put away.