This is Harley, my sister-in-law's gentle basset hound. Harley appeared in her driveway, a half-grown puppy, about thirteen years ago. He arrived with a scar on his nose and a broken rib. I wonder if he sensed that there was already a basset in that house (Rosebud, the queen, gone on several years ago) and that he would be safe and loved there? Harley was a good companion all of his life; he loved people and other dogs, and got along with everyone. He became blind a couple of years ago, but didn't lose his interest in people or his love for life.
I wish I had a photo of his other side; he had a perfect white UT Longhorn right in the middle of his left side. Good thing my SIL wasn't an Aggie.
Recently Harley has had very little energy, and last week my sister-in-law found out he had lymphoma. Yesterday Harley had no more strength left, and it was time to let him go. He was a very good boy, always. I hope that when we get to the Bridge we'll hear Harley, "Aroo"ing to welcome us.