The Basset Chronicles
by
June J. McInerney
Copyright June J. McInerney 2011
Published by B’Seti Pup Publishing at Smashwords
ISBN: 978-1-4661-3815-5
Illustrated by Linda F. Uzelac
DEDICATED
to those everywhere who love and admire Basset Hounds. Most specially to those who are fond of mine and who supported me while I wrote this book: Lin and Steve, Sister Peg and “Uncle” Dan, Cathy, Fenn, Brian, Maria, and Michael, Betty and Joe. And, of course, thanks to “Frankie,” “FrankieB,” and “Sebastian”.
The “Biblical Years” stories are based upon various books of The Life Application Bible: New Revised Standard Version©1989, World Bible Publishers, Inc., Iowa Falls, Iowa
“Why Dogs Have Wet Noses” is loosely based up a “tail” from What Do Dogs Know? by Stanley Coren and Janet Walker. Published by Free Press ©1997.
The poems in “Frankie Poetry” were originally published in Spinach Water and Exodus Ending, also by the author.
These stories could not have been written without the assistance of both “Frankie” and “FrankieB”, who, of course, were able to tell me as I wrote them, each in his own way, what really happened.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This is primarily a work of fiction. However, some of the characters and locations are real or are based upon real people and places. I have taken the liberty of ascribing fictional dialogue and behavior to those people that are real, as well as augmenting or changing the description of some of the real places to suit the context of these stories.
Smashwords License Statement
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
How Basset Hounds Were Created
HOW BASSET HOUNDS WERE CREATED
Now, in the early part of the evening of the Sixth Day of Creation, God was sitting in his easy chair recliner, newly stuffed with goose-down, in front of a warm, crackling fire in his Cloud Den located on the lower Firmament level of Heaven. He had just completed making all the animals, including mankind, male and female alike did he make them, that dwell upon the Earth. It had been, by far, the longest day of Creation and He was really, really tired.
For, from the rising of the newly fashioned greater light of the Sun to its setting and the appearance of the lesser light of the Moon, God had been very busy. Eternally working non-stop, in turn He created just about every living creature of every kind, including the cattle and creeping things and wild animals, even spiders and snakes, and slippery, muddy worms. And when he saw that they were all lively and thriving and that it was Good, He made humankind in the image of Himself and then made the inhabitants of all the levels of Heaven to assist Him in maintaining the Creation.
That was the hardest part of His day, because there are nine types of Heavenly inhabitants, divided into three hierarchies of Choirs: Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones; Dominions, Powers, Virtues, and Mights; and Principalities, Archangels, and Angels, of which there is the littlest one, named Miniminuel. And each and every one of the types is quite different. So, as you can imagine it took Him a long time to create Heaven’s residents, whom we now know as Angels.
It took God a longer time, almost an eternity, to create the first man and woman, combining all the best qualities of the heavenly Hosts to get Adam and Eve to look and sound and act just right. He had to be especially careful to give them just the right amount of free will so that they would choose to love, honor, and obey Him in all things as far as it was humanly possible.
In addition, He had to be careful about what all the living creatures were to eat; making sure it was not each other. So He made the Divine decision to allow them to feast on the plants and fine Garden greenery. Animals and humans alike were to have for food every plant yielding seed and every tree with seed in its fruit. That was especially hard, because as God created, He discovered that each and every creature had his or her own particular and peculiar tastes. The horse only ate oats and barley, the cows, grasses, and the fish, green plankton. Humans craved a variety of green vegetables and fresh salads, including olives and romaine lettuce. At the end of the Sixth Day, God felt more like a restaurateur than a Creator.
But, in the end, He saw that everything was, indeed, very Good. However creative He was, though, God was, indeed, very, very omnipotently tired.
God sighed heavily and deeply, sagging deeply into the soft, caressing folds of the chair, slowly sipping His foaming, fermented drink.
“Ah, yes, it all looks good. But such hard work. If I had only known how much trouble it would be to create mankind, to find the right kind of mate and companion, to feed him well…at least I don’t have to worry about clothing them. Like the new lilies of the field, they need not worry, for I will provide.
“Ahhhh,” He yawned. “Tomorrow is another day, the Seventh Day. From now on and all through that day, I shall rest.” And having thus spoken, God settled Himself into the goose-feather filled pillows, muttering, “One of the best Creations I’ve done so far.” Feeling that all was good, He smiled and instantly fell into a deep sleep, gently and peacefully snoring.
Down on earth, however, it was far less than peaceful. Commotion after the Creation reigned amidst the Trees of Knowledge and of Good and Evil in the middle of the Garden of Eden. For scurrying frightened and lost under the lush, low growing bushes, unable to find his path back to God, was Miniminuel, the littlest angel. All of Creation was quite new to this gentlest of souls and Eden, with all of its newness of life, was quite overwhelming to him. And so he sat, huddled between the lowest branches of the thickest mulberry bush, cowering and sorely afraid.
The newly created animals, of course, were upset. All animals, especially mammals, can smell human and angelic emotions, especially fear. And they certainly sensed the fear of the littlest angel. Because they were unable to see him, they, in turn, became afraid and began to trample upon the earth. The two new humans, Adam and Eve, were not aware, of course, of why the animals, the cattle, the oxen, the giraffes, the turtles, the elephants, the lions, and the tigers, and the bears—oh my—were beginning to stampede and so they, too, began to grouse and grumble and become afraid.
The lesser light rose high into the Heavens over the twinkling stars, glowing through the window of God’s Cloud Den where He lay gently sleeping. But down on Earth, the animals snorted and hissed and stomped while Adam and Eve began to complain about the noise. And God, of course, was totally oblivious to what was happening below. He snorted and snored and coughed, turning over on His side, causing large rumbles of thunder to roll and clap through the cumulous clouds, sparking and spewing lightning across the Garden. This frightened the animals even more, causing Adam and Eve to seek shelter from harm’s way in the boughs of the Tree of Good and Evil, whose fruit, though forbidden, smelled absolutely temptingly luscious.
At the precise moment when Adam and Eve decided to hide from the animals, the Heavenly Hosts of Heaven gathered before God as He slept.
The four Major Archangels—Ariel, Raphael, Gabriel, and Michael—strode purposefully across the cirrus-shagged rug of the Cloud Den and stood as a phalanx at the feet of God, waiting for Him to awaken.
“I really don’t think He will. He looks so peaceful in a very deep sleep,” Ariel said, wrapping her wings around her shoulders.
“He just has to,” Raphael said. “Our littlest angel, Miniminuel, is missing, and we need His Great Majesty’s help to find him.”
Gabriel bristled and ruffled his own wing feathers. “I’ve trained Mini well,” he said. “He should be able to take care of himself.”
“But he’s the littlest and youngest. And, in our haste, we did leave him behind when we left the Garden of Eden amidst all those wild animals God created. He must be very frightened,” Michael said. “We must wake God.”
“But how?” Ariel asked.
“You just did!” God thundered, turning his wrath upon the phalanx of angels standing before Him. The very walls of the Cloud Den shook and rattled. “And I was having the most wonderful dream…I was walking in a lush garden with ripening tomatoes and green cucumbers and bright, red strawberries, talking with two men named Noah and Moses…”
“Oh, God!” Michael shouted, beside himself. “Enough with the reverie. Miniminuel is missing and we need Your help to find him.”
“What?!” God exclaimed, jumping up and straightening his newly sewn ermine robes. “What have you done?”
“We didn’t do anything,“ Ariel tried to explain. “When You had finished with The Creation and left, we tidied up the Garden and then summoned the Firmament Elevator to carry us back to Heaven. We thought he was close behind us, but as the doors closed, we realized he wasn’t. And, well…”
“You left him there?” God asked, quite annoyed. “But he’s so little and unarmed against the wild beasts…”
“That’s what we thought,” Michael asserted. “Which is why we came to You and had to wake You up. Sorry, God. Mea culpa.”
“That’s okay, my son,” God said. “Let’s see what we can do to get Miniminuel back up here.”
He walked to the huge picture window that spanned the Firmament of Heaven and overlooked the tops of the trees that grew in the Garden of Eden. Beside it was a stellar telescope on an adjustable tripod. He swung it into place and adjusted the eyepiece to 120X strength, scanning the horizons of Earth.
The angels stood behind Him, anxiously waiting for the littlest angel to be found.
After a while, Ariel impatiently said, “Well, do You see anything?”
“Hold on,” God said, still looking into the eyepiece, waving His hand behind His back to shoo Ariel away. “Not yet…wait, hold on. I think I’ve got something. Yes, there he is…under that mulberry bush. There, do you see?” He moved away to give Ariel a chance to look.
“Hey, everyone! There he is!
“Ariel exclaimed. “See?” Each of the Archangels, in turn, took a look into the telescope, watching as Miniminuel crouched and cowered, cornered by a lion, unable to make his escape.
Gabriel unsheathed his mighty, gleaming sword. “I will get him!” he shouted, running out the door towards the Firmament Elevator. “Hang on, my little friend. Help is on the way!”
When Miniminuel was safely back in the higher Firmament of Heaven and rested from his ordeal, having been rescued by Gabriel, he appeared before God to tell Him how the Archangel had scared the fiercely roaring lion away with his fiery sword and then carried him safely to the Elevator.
“Ah, yes, that was Good,” God said. “Good of Gabriel. And now you are safe.”
“Yes, I am,” said Miniminuel. “But…”
“But?”
“But...” Miniminuel folded his wings neatly behind his back, as he had been taught to do in the presence of God, and indicating a stool next to God’s recliner, asked if he could sit down.
“Of course, my little son,” God said. “What is on your mind?”
“Well,” the littlest angel began. ‘I know that You created Adam first, and then Eve out of his rib for his mate. But I think…” Miniminuel hesitated.
“Yes?”
“If I may…”
“Go on.”
“I think,” the angel said, shifting on the stool, “that they need, um, a companion.”
“A companion?”
“Yes. Kind of what one would call a, um, pet?”
“A pet?” God mused. “What a novel idea.”
“Well, yes. While I was lost under the bush, I overheard them talking and while they seemed happy enough, they were looking for someone, something to, well, raise together and cherish.”
“I was planning children for them,” God asserted.
“Yes, but until that time, God,” Miniminuel countered, “a pet would fill the bill. And when the children do come, it could help them raise the kids. Teach them responsibility and all that…”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Well, something in the way of a dog.”
“A dog?”
“Yes. A dog.”
God thought about this for a long time, while the littlest angel sat preening wing feathers by His side. Finally, after what seemed eons, God said, “It’s a strange name…dog. But…this is Good. Since you had the idea, Mini, I want you to form a committee of angels, one from each of the three choirs and the major Archangels—you will be the Chair-angel. Plan out what this ‘pet’ is to look like, and, if I agree that it would be suitable for Adam and Eve, I will add it to my Creation. Agreed?”
“Agreed!” said Miniminuel, quite pleased with himself. And he hurried off to form his committee.
When the hierarchy of Archangels heard of God’s decision to have the littlest angel of the lowest rank of the inhabitants of Heaven head up the Committee to Create a Canine Companion for Adam and Eve, Raphael, Gabriel, Michael, and even Ariel (who was the most democratic and understanding of all the Archangels) bristled. Since their very inception, they always were to be assigned to head up all of the Heavenly committees, and were always put in charge of the biggest tasks and assignments. After all, this was the littlest, as well as the youngest, angel. What did he know? What experience did he have that they didn’t that would make him their leader?
Miniminuel, as well, while pleased with his new assignment, was not so very sure himself he’d be up to the task of managing his superiors. But since he had great faith in God, and, it seemed, God had such great faith in him, he uncurled his wings, smoothed down their feathers, and proudly marched to the Heavenly Meeting Hall, where all the great decisions about the new Creation were to be made.
As they were all gathering in front of the wide oaken doors of the Angelic Conference Room in the Heavenly Meeting Hall, Raphael, Gabriel, Michael, and Ariel in great cacophony, and all at once, related their ideas, advice, and suggestions to Miniminuel as to how he should run the meeting—what tasks he should assign each of the committee members, and how the “pet” should look, and how to present the Plan of a Creature Creation to God.
Miniminuel strutted to the doors and before he opened them, turned to the Archangels shouting and gesturing and advising him.
“Stop!” he said, dead in his tracks, his feet planted firmly on the tiled floor. “I have my own ideas. I have everything under control!”
“We’ll see about that!” Raphael said, pushing the doors open and striding into the conference room before Miniminuel. He planted himself in the chair at the head of the table and was adjusting his wings when Ariel sat down in a seat along an edge of the table and said:
“Raphael, I know you are used to being in charge of everything angelic around here and are sometimes God’s right hand, but this is Miniminuel’s thing, now. That’s his place to sit, not yours.”
“Who says?”
“God says.”
“Oh,” said Raphael and as the littlest angel humbly walked into the room to take his place at the head of the committee, he meekly got up and moved to a corner chair at the other end of the room. To himself he thought: I’ll be watching you. To Miniminuel he said:
“All yours, little guy. Let’s see what you can do.”
Since there were ten members of the committee, each representing the eight levels or ranks of the Inhabitants of Heaven, Miniminuel decided that each of them would suggest a trait that the new pet dog for Adam and Eve would have. When they were all assembled and seated, their wings comfortably adjusted around them, he proposed this to the Committee. Every member agreed.
“So far, so good,” he said.
“Now, Raphael,” he said, straining to see the Archangel at the far end of the room, smugly curled up in his wings. “You go first. What trait would you suggest?”
“Well, I am the Angel of Healing and Protection, you know. So, I propose that the new creature have long, white teeth and a big chest. We’ll call that a brisket…so that he can bare his canines—pardon the pun—and growl and snarl and maul any predators, if need be. And he has to stand steadfastly and stalwartly on his feet to protect his new human companions.”
“Good suggestion,” the Chair-angel said. “Agreed?” he asked the rest of the Committee. No one demurred, so he moved on to Michael.
“The pet has to be loyal,” the second Archangel said. “So, I, too, suggest he be loyal, resolute, dedicated, and persistent. To show that, his tail should be really long, with a large, white tip, that wags wildly when they greet him and stands erect when he is in the field, so that Adam and Eve can see him wherever he is and know that he is thinking about and with them all the time.”
“Wait,” interjected Ariel. “We’re all saying, ‘he’ and ‘him’. Are we all agreed that this pet—thing—should be male and why not, um, female?” She shook her feathered wings in such a way that the male Committee members sat straight up in their seats and dipped their haloes at her in what seemed like a newfound recognition.
“Good point, Ariel,” Miniminuel said. ”But for the first go-around of this ‘draft’ model, I think male at first. The female of breed will come later, you think?”
“Hmm, well, yes,” Ariel said, preening even more. “Practice does make perfect!”
Miniminuel continued around the room, with each angel offering his trait in turn.
Metaton, the Angel of Length, offered a long, low-slung body and longevity of life so that the newly formed companion would be able to scamper under low bushes and also be with Adam and Eve for a long time. Camuel offered deep love and great eyesight in big, brown, watery eyes that would look both sad and appealing.
When it was Orofactel’s turn, she sighed and took a long time to answer.
“Well,” she said. “I was thinking about the ears. They would have to be very long and wide and wing-like. Simply because, and I am sure we will all agree, that we can’t think of anything that doesn’t exist without some semblance of wings—like we have.” She stopped to brush the tops of hers and then continued.
“While God created Adam and Eve in His own Image, I would think that whatever we, the Angels, design to be created as the companion of mankind should carry a part of what we are—our wings. Besides, the long, wide ears could also be used not so much in hearing, but in scooping up scents on the ground into the dog’s nose. A great sense of smell, a million times better than that of Adam’s, will help the human in his hunting.”
“What a great idea!” Ariel exclaimed. The rest of the group applauded loudly and long.
“Seems like we’re all agreed on that one,” Miniminuel said. “Say, is anyone taking this all down?”
“I am,” boasted Camuel, showing the notes and sketches he was making.
“Great job,” the Chair-angel said. “Who’s next?”
As the rest of the afternoon wore on, the rest of the Committee offered the remaining traits. Gabriel added a really long snout with a great sense of smell to compliment Orofactel’s ears. Uriel gave a singing, baying, howling voice along with the deep brisket. Sandalphon gave short, stubby legs and large, wide paws so that he could stand squarely on them and not lose his balance when he ran. Ariel offered her mercy and gentleness with a soft, smooth coat of fur. And, lastly, Atheniel gave the gift of being a great, skilled hunter.
After everyone else was finished, and everyone agreed to the choices, Miniminuel offered his.
“He should be honest and forthright. Maybe a bit stubborn, with a mind of his own, but kind and honest just the same. And a good cuddler.”
Camuel jotted all of the traits down, with their descriptions, and drafted a plan which included not only text, but a sketch and creation details. When it was completed, he presented it to Miniminuel who, in turn, presented it to the rest of the Committee to Create a Canine Companion for Adam and Eve.
The last thing to decide was what to call the newest member of the animal kingdom. Because he was so low to the ground, they settled on calling it a Basset hound; “basset” meaning “settled low” and “hound” meaning, well, “hunter”.
“Are we ready for our final vote?” the Chair-angel asked, scanning the room with his tiny eyes.
Reluctantly impressed by what he had seen, Raphael was the first to raise his right wing to say, “Aye! I agree!” The rest of the Angels and Archangels fluttered their wings and followed suit. “Aye! Aye! Yes, yes, and I agree wholeheartedly!” Everyone concurred.
“It’s unanimous!” Miniminuel declared. “Tomorrow we will bring our Plan to God!”
The next day, on the Eighth Day of Creation, Miniminuel, Raphael, Michael, and Ariel appeared before God, who was once again supine in His great recliner in His Cloud Den, with His feet up, pointing His soles to the Garden of Eden, sipping a brewsky, and watching a Celestial League baseball game on His wide-screen HDTV. The Cherubim Haloes were losing to the Seraphim Harps, 7 to 9, in the bottom of the eighth inning, and He was getting a bit agitated.
“Yes, what is it now?!” He shouted at the door, when Raphael softly rapped on it.
“Sorry to disturb You, Great Father,” Miniminuel whispered as he pushed open the door, but You did say that when my, er, our Committee completed its tasks, we were to immediately come to You. “
“And, so, I did, little one,” God said, reaching for the remote and pressing Mute. “It’s a close, but disappointing game. This, it seems, is more important,” seeing the huge, red and white folder Miniminuel was carrying.
“Okay,” God said. “Let’s see what you got.”
God perused the plan and the sketches very carefully, and for a long time. He pondered the creation details, then turned the sketches this way and that to get a better idea of what the Committee to Create a Canine Companion for Adam and Eve was proposing.
“Hmmm,” He finally said, taking another sip of his brewsky. He eyed the muted HDTV. The Haloes were still losing in the top of the ninth. “Bummer,” He whispered under His breath, then turned off the TV. “Better luck next time.”
God waved the Angels and Archangels to the other side of the room to make space in the center of the floor of his Cloud Den. He spread His arms wide to the Universe and said, “Let there be this Basset Hound!” And, lo, in the middle of the Den suddenly appeared a small hound, with very long ears, two droopy too-sad eyes, four very big paws, a very long, white-tipped tail, a long snout, and a very soft, velvety coat of dark reddish-brown fur, mixed with large patches of gleaming white on his back, across one shoulder, and on his plump belly.
And this is what he looked like:
God stared at the Basset puppy for a long time, as the puppy looked around at his new surroundings, not sure where he was or whom he was with. He cringed on a corner of the carpet and embarrassingly, out of fright and uncertainty, stained it.
“Ah, geez,” Miniminuel said, “you’re not supposed to do that…”
“It’s okay,” Michael said. “He’s not trained yet. Too new to do anything else. You’d be frightened, too, if your first sight in life was that of God.”
The Very Omnipotent Being continued to stare at the Basset. He didn’t say anything. The Angels stood very still in anticipation, for God did not say, “And it was Good,” as He normally does after making something. Instead, He “hmmmed” and “hawed” and stroked His long, white beard. Finally, he said:
“Very interesting. You all seemed to have captured the best parts of all dogs, if ever I was to create them. He’s, um, well quite funny looking. However, I have been thinking about starting out with the basic grey Wolf and letting the species evolve from there.”
Having made a decision, He raised His right hand and pointed His finger at the little puppy sniffing the cirrus-shag rug, about to erase what He had just made.
“No! God, no!” shouted Miniminuel. “Please don’t destroy what You’ve just created. I beg of You. I pray to You…Don’t!”
“And why not, Little Angel?”
“Because that is the first of Your Ordinal Rules, remember? Thou shalt not destroy what Thou hast created...”
“…unless it is justly deserved,” Gabriel said. “Miniminuel is right. No destruction.”
The Basset, sensing how ominous it was to have the Omnipotent Finger pointing at him, quivered in fright, as if he knew that his short, brief existence was tenuous at best—in very grave danger.
Michael said, “Look at him. He’s just a naïve little puppy. What has he done to deserve Your wrath to be destroyed just because he may be ‘funny looking’?”
“Well, I, um, I mean to say…” God sputtered, lowering His arm. “Maybe you do have a point.”
“I know, I know!” Ariel jumped up and down to be noticed. “Let’s not be so hasty. Let’s let Adam and Eve decide.”
God thought about this. “Well,” He mused, “since he is to be their companion, that may be the wisest action to do here. Proceed.”
“Yes!” Miniminuel and Ariel yelled together, jauntily giving each other a mighty high-five with the tips of their wings.
Sensing that he was saved by God, the puppy wagged his long, white-tipped tail in delight. Without thinking and definitely without warning, he bounded up onto God’s lap, spilling His drink all over His ermine robe, planted his large, front paws squarely upon His chest, and joyously licked His face, slobbering all over God’s nose and mouth.
It was indeed a funny sight and the Angels did indeed laugh, rollicking the very Firmament of Heaven until God pushed the Basset Hound puppy off His chest, stood up, brushed puppy hair off his robes with His hands, and with a great, blue bandana, wiped puppy spittle from His mouth.
“That is quite enough,” God said. “Take him away!”
And, so, they did.
Raphael picked up the puppy and gathered him into his protective arms. He carried him to the Firmament of Heaven Elevator that connected the first Level with the Garden of Eden.
Adam was noshing on the last part of a peach and gnawing on the pit by the Waterfall of Eden, swishing his feet in the pond formed at its base, when he heard a great fluttering of wings and tiny, high-pitched yips. He looked up and saw four angels—one the tiniest speck with wings he had ever seen—drifting down toward him.
“Hello, Adam,” Gabriel said. “How are you doing? We’ve got something for you.”
“It’s been two or more days since you’ve been earthed by God out of mud and rock, so we thought you’d like a belated birth, er, earth day present,” Raphael said, placing the puppy beside Adam on the grass. Immediately, curious creature that he was, the little hound began sniffing at the peach.
“Not for you,” Adam said, moving the mostly eaten peach to his other hand, away from the prying nose. “He’s rather funny looking, isn’t he? And, he is a ‘he’, isn’t he?”
“Funny looking. Huh. That’s just what God said,” Ariel remembered. “And yes, he is a hymn, er, a him.”
Adam examined the puppy very carefully before asking, “What does he do?”
“Do?” asked Miniminuel.
“Purpose?” queried Adam. “His ears are too long, his legs too short, his tail too tall, and his paws too big. And, in case you haven’t noticed, he is really, really short.”
“Vertically challenged,” said Ariel.
“Yes, well…still.”
“He is to be your companion,” Raphael said.
“But I have Eve,” Adam stated.
Just then, as if on cue, Eve walked out of the forest behind the Waterfall of Eden, cradling a large, red Macintosh apple in her left hand. She was about to take a bite out of it when she caught sight of the Basset puppy sitting expectantly by Adam’s rib.
“Good morning, Madam,” to Eve said Adam.
“Good morning, Sir,” to him said she.
“What have we here?” she inquired, gesturing to the puppy at his side. “And why are all these angels here? Have we done something wrong already?”
“Oh, no, dear, nothing like that,” Adam said. “They’ve come to give us this.” He picked up the little hound and held it out to her.
Gabriel glared at the apple in Eve’s hand.
“What do you have there?” he asked.
“What? Oh, this?” she responded, looking at the apple in her hand , then tossing it into the woods. “It is nothing. But this, this…” she said taking the Basset Hound puppy into her arms, “is something.” Sensing unconditional love and maternal warmth, he instantly pressed his dry nose into the curve between her long, white neck and alabaster shoulders. He began to chortle softly.
“Why, he’s just adorable,” she cooed. To Adam she asked, “May we keep him?”
“Of course!” he said. “Apparently, he’s a gift from the angels on the belated occasion of our Creation Day. Isn’t that right?” he asked, turning to the angels.
“Yes, yes, the Basset is yours,” they sang in unison, forming a choir in front of Adam and Eve, and singing a capella. “To raise and love, and take care of. Protect him always and he will soon grow to be your cherished companion!”
“He is a Basset Hound,” Miniminuel explained. “Basset means ‘low to the ground’.”
“He certainly is,” Adam said, watching the hound leap from Eve’s arms and scamper under the bushes after a rabbit. “What shall we call him?” he asked her.
“Well, he is endearing…”
“We’ve already named one of the Cervidae ‘deer’, dear.”
“And, so, we did. Well, then, he is cute,” Eve tried again.
“Well…we did call the furry guinea pig an ‘Agouti’, didn’t we?”
“Hmmm. Well…he’s, um, he’s…”
“He was designed to be loyal, faithful, forthright, open, truthful, outspoken, steadfast, above-board, and, above all, honest,” Miniminuel proposed.
“Is that so? Adam said, finishing the last of his peach and scrunching the pit into the ground beside him.
“Then we shall call him ‘Frank’!” Adam and Eve both decided at the same time.
The angels agreed that that was the best name for the Basset Hound. God looked down from Heaven through His telescope and saw that it was Good.
And ever since then, the Basset Hound has been the best and most lovable companion of men and women of all ages.
And so that’s how Basset Hounds were created.
And that’s how they are still to this day.
Except, of course, for having wet, not dry, noses.
The next story in these chronicles relates how that happened.
When Noah built the Ark and gathered the animals in, two by two, he brought in a brace (the hunting word for a pair) of Basset Hounds. These were by far not the first dogs ever created by God, but they were the most interesting, having been, you see, first designed by a committee of the lesser Angels. But that is another story in the beginning of these Chronicles. Noah was quite partial to Basset hounds, having had a few of them himself in his earlier childhood. So, when it came time to decide which breeds were to go and which were to stay, he chose two Bassets to board the huge boat.
What is most important to this story is that this brace of Bassets, Frankie and Judy, were the most industrious and conscientious of all the Ark animals. From their first day of creation, hounds were never the kind of dog that just lounged around waiting for their dinner and a few bones to be tossed to them. Oh, no. They were the kind of dog that worked for their keep, often even singing for their supper, howling the vowels of their human companions' favorite psalms. Can't you just imagine the Twenty-third Psalm sung by a deep-throated Basset?
"The Looooo-wooo-rd is my shep-woooooo-eeeeeerd. I shall-wooo-ooooooooo not wa-oooooo-nt."
Quite melodic, don't you think?
Anyway, Frankie and Judy were not going to take a free ride from Noah without showing their deep appreciation for all his endeavors to save his family and the best of humanity's companions. So, they struck up a bargain with him. It was to be, you might say "their right of passage". And it was this: They would patrol the big Ark every night and every morning, making sure that all was well with all of the passengers that dwelled therein the various rooms, sections, and stalls.
They promised to faithfully keep watch over all the seven pairs of the clean animals, and each pair of all the unclean animals, not to mention the seven pairs of each of the many species of birds that flew freely around the Ark's roof and rafters. From the very first raindrop, when God sealed the big wooden doors of the Ark, Frankie and Judy took their tasks very seriously and did them quite assiduously.
It was, as you can imagine, a daunting prospect, for the Ark was not just a little dingy. No, it was bigger than that. It was not just a large boat or a super-sized ship. It was actually humongous! Colossally gigantic. A really immense ship; bigger than any one you could ever imagine. It was as long as from here to your best friend's house across town, as wide as the Grand Canyon, and twice as tall as five Sequoia redwood trees standing end-to-end one on top of each other. Now, that's a BIG boat. No wonder it took Noah and his sons so long to build it.
Frankie and Judy patrolled every inch of the floating animal kingdom. Each and every morning they would arise bright and early from their soft straw Basset beds in the canine kennel corner of one of the Ark's mid-sections, where all the four-footed mammals were boarded, and begin their audit of the Ark.
They sniffed every plank of the cypress wood, trudging from the very bottom keel to the tall, massive bridge way up top where Noah and Shem captained and steered the ship through the raging storm and coursing waters. It took them a long time. As you know, Bassets have very short, stocky, but cute, legs and they take four times as many steps as we do to walk the same distance. So, by lunchtime, they were only half way through with their watch and would often stop amidships to eat with the sheep, goats, cows, and other bovine corralled in the middle stalls.
Frankie, you see, was very partial to yogurt and New York sharp cheddar cheese, of which, of course, that section had more than enough to share. And so he would linger there the longest, hoping to savor a few choice tidbits. And each visit, his hopes were fulfilled. For as every hound learns at a very young age, if you sit and stare at something long enough, you will get it. So, each day, he would sit and stare at a hunk of cheese or a cup of yogurt until one of the cows, tired of Frankie begging, threw him a piece of cheddar or a soupspoon full of yogurt.
And so, every afternoon after lunch, they would finish their patrol by ambling along the outside walls of the interior top decks, checking out the birds and the bees in the broad-beamed rafters, and eventually hiked up the wide gangplank to the bridge to report their findings to Noah.
For the first few days of what was to be a little more than forty days and forty nights of absolutely drenching rain, every thing and every being seemed to be fine. As Frankie did the majority of the sniffing and searching, Judy chatted amiably with each pair of animals they passed, asking, "Do you have everything you need? Is the journey smooth enough for you? Are you comfortable? Enough straw, fodder, and grain to eat?" Often she would check to make sure that no one was seasick. If any one was, she offered her special remedy for the woo-sies—a dash of sugar on a slice of the bitterest lemon she could sniff out, sprinkled with a dash of crushed mustard seed.
Well, in the beginning, the voyage all seemed to be going very smoothly, according to God's plan.
But one day down in the bowels of the Ark, along the outer edge of the cypress-hewn keel, Frankie thought he sniffed a damp scent.
"Cowoooo-woo-wooo wouldn't be," he howled as softly as he was able, loud enough to alert Judy but quiet enough so as not to alarm any of the larger hippopotami and elephants that were living down there.
Judy padded softly over to him, sniffing in the same direction as Frankie's smooth, round, black nose. In those days, you realize, dog and hound noses were smooth, without side notches, and as dry as crinkled sandpaper. Frankie sniffed again, this time taking hard, short snorts of air that whistled through his leathery nostrils like a baby breathing through a wooden fife.
"Oo-wooo-wooo-wet!" he howled again. "There, Judy, in one of those port planks that separate the raging waters from the safe, dry land banks built for the big mastodons and hippos."
Judy sniffed and sighted along the path of Frankie's pointing paw.
"There, Judy. Can you smell it?"
Judy sidled her long back next to Frankie's and whispered, "Yes, I can. It's a small hole, and water is slowly dripping from it. Oh, my!"
And sure enough, if you looked close enough, there was a hole in the plank, no bigger than the circle you can make with your thumb and forefinger, which is about the exact size of Frankie's nose.
"Wooo-wooo-wa-oooo-ter is leaking inside the Ark," Frankie snorted. "I suggested they reinforce the keel with oak, but noo-ooooo-oooo, Noah had to use the same cheap cypress wood with which they built the rest of this bucket of bilge, and now it's sprung a leak!"
"No use yelping over bad bark, Basset," Judy chided. "Best to decide what we're going to do about it now. By the time we get up to Noah and Shem, the raging waters will have built up, burst through, and basically have flooded the Ark, drowning all of us and the best of mankind, as well."
"So much for us," Frankie yelped, circling around his tail and pawing the keel boards so that he could comfortably lie down and think.
"Unless, unless…" he sighed, settling into a curl, his muzzle resting on a paw, as he tried to figure it all out.
"What are you thinking?" Judy quizzed, her eyebrows twitching in expectation. She knew full well that her lifelong mate had a plan. She had such great faith that he always did.
"Well, no use the two of us going the distance from here up to the bridge. Judy, you go and sound the alarm and I'll wait here for you to bring Noah and Shem. Remind Shem to bring his tar paper and hammer and pieces of wood to fix the leak."
"And what will you be doing in the meantime, might I ask?” Judy woofed.
"Plugging this darn hole with my nose."
Frankie got up from his curl, snuffled, and softly padded over to the keel hole. He snorted and then pushed his dry snout into the fissure where, sure enough, it was the perfect fit. His nose crammed into the leak so snugly, it stopped each and every little drip and drop of water on the outside of the Ark from dripping and dropping into the inside.
"Hurrumphyinmyupmmmph," he muffled, as Judy paddy-pawed as quickly as her stubby little legs could carry her over the single keel. In those days double hulls and keels for freighters and tanker ships had not yet been invented. Judy wriggled her way up the first step of stairs leading up to the bridge, as Frankie sat upon his short haunches, his nose stuck in place sniffing the watery world of the oceans beyond the Ark.
Now, Frankie knew it would take Judy the best part of the morning, almost well into lunch, to go the distance to where Noah and Shem were. He was fully prepared to have his nose stuck where it didn't belong for a long time, but was not prepared for the icy, cold, wet outside waters that battered against its leathery tip as the Ark plied its way through God's deluge of wrath against evil humanity.
Frankie, stubborn as he was to stick it out, was sorely tempted, at one point, to pop his nose right back out of the hole and have the waters flood the Ark, just to have it warm and dry once more. But, being the sort of hound he was, at the very last moment he decided against it. And so, for what seemed like days, but was really only hours, Frankie sat and stood and sat again with his snout stuck in the small crater, damming up the waters. He silently and stoically shivered with the icy cold dampness that traveled from his nose down to the very white tippy-tip of his hound tail.
Meanwhile, Judy bounded up stairs, across planks, down decks, through amidships, skipping lunch, until hours later, she panted her way wearily into the bridge where Noah was expertly navigating.
"Woof, wooof. Woof, woooooooof, woof, woof woof, woof," she said.
"Now, what's that you say?" Noah bent down to Judy to best hear her story, translating her barks and howls into the early Ancient Hebrew dialect that was spoken during those times.
Now, you know God picked Noah to save the animals because not only was he a godly and righteous man, but also because he was the only one on the earth at the time of the Great Flood who, like our modern day Dr. Doolittle, could talk to the animals. As a matter of fact, Dr. Doolittle is a direct descendant of Noah, and much of the same animal languages we speak today were spoken back then.