Later, Sirs.

I must abjectly apologize for not posting lately.

I have been very busily preparing for the Tripartite Basset Commission -- charts, speeches and such.
As you may know, I will be delivering the keynote address (On Basset Noses: The Twenty-First Century and Beyond!). This has been very carefully crafted; I am proud of it. Perhaps I will do an audio post of it when I return.

I have also found out that there is a "Monkey Hill" near where I will be staying. I can only assume that there are plentiful monkeys running around there -- I intend to catch and eat one. I have never eaten monkey before. I think it may taste like sir-flesh.

I will also be attending the grave of Alfred the Puma.
Alfred the Puma lived at the Brandywine Zoo; when he died they kept his area empty with a sign that said "Alfred the Puma is dead." I thought this was sad. And creepy.
I want to dignify Alfred's tomb and honor his life. Maybe I will also pee a little on his tomb.

(I also hear there are otters at the Zoo. They're probably also tasty.)

So, in conclusion, I will be gone for a few weeks. When I come back, I will be a positive fountain of policy -- I intend to use the Tripartite Basset Commission to fully polish and formulate my views on economics, foreign and domestic relations.

Hams, juicy Hams to you and yours, Sirs.

Sirs: A Campaign Song?

I was talking to Mister Sir today when the conversation turned to music. In a Flash*, I realized that I needed a campaign song. Quickly.

I discussed the options with Mister Sir and I decided that the song "I Need All the Friends I Can Get" by the group Camera Obscura would be ideal. I immediately sent them an email asking their permission:

Dear Sirs and Lady-Sirs of Camera Obscura:

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Sebastian K. Poochles. I am a basset hound. I have included a picture of me so you can see what I look like.**

I am writing to you for this reason: I am running for president of the United States in 2008. To do this, I need a catchy campaign song. I wanted to see if you would mind if I used your song
"I Need All The Friends I Can Get" from your album Let's Get Out of This Country. I think it's a fine song and very much the sort of message a dog running for president needs to send out.
I would also like to add that I have been a fan of yours all my life.

Please visit my website at www.poochles2008.blogspot.com and you can see my campaign blog and listen to me speak.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Wishing you hams,

Sebastian K. Poochles.

I await their response.

Good Hams to you.

*Basset hounds always capitalize this phrase in honor of one of the most famous Basset hounds, Flash from The Dukes of Hazzard.

**The picture sent was the one to the left, of me in the park.

Hear Me, Sirs

I thought that I should use some exciting new technology.

Please listen to me as I talk, sirs. It is like telephoning, but over the Internet.

Gabcast! Poochles 2008 #1

Success, Sirs, Success!

Congratulations To You, Sirs.

This website, Poochles2008.blogspot.com, is now the NUMBER ONE GOOGLE RESPONSE for the word "Poochles"!

This is a great moment, sirs and lady-sirs.

I can only thank you.
And politely ask you to Look To The Future!

Hams to You and Your Loved Ones.

Sirs: More Exciting Comments

Rocky's family is very computer-literate and very pro-Basset. We can only praise this.

His aunt writes:

The Honorable Sebastian,
First of all, I have enjoyed following you on your campaign trail. I respect and admire all of your opinions and you have my vote - "you da dog"! I know you are busy but I would be honored if you would give me your opinion on this important issue - "Do you think Sanjaya Malakur should have gotten the boot?" Hoping you will find time from your busy schedule to express your opinion.
Respectfully,
Rocky's aunt

I'm not going to lie here. I'm not very sure who this Sanjaya is.

I am a very savvy news-watcher and I did see several pieces on the local Newscast -- CBS 2 -- concerning him. Mister Sir is a faithful viewer of The People's Court -- he's even been in the studio audience -- and the WCBS 2 Five O'clock News comes on immediately after. For several weeks, he featured on this newscast. But I will find out more about him.

Later -- I looked up Mr Malakar on the Wikipedia.
You see, I am not allowed to pick what is shown on the TV. Also, Mister Sir moans painfully when American Idol is on and claims his soul is being stolen. So I was not able to come up with much of an opinion before my Wikipedia dive.
But Mr Malakar seems like a nice guy. He has nice fur for a human. Also, he sang two Irving Berlin songs which I can only support. I can only conclude he was unfairly removed from the American Idol proceedings.
But he sort of, kind of, looks a like a rent boy.
(Mister Sir made me say that. I'm not sure what a rent boy is or what they look like, but Mister Sir is offering me a treat. I will say anything he wants for that treat.)

Hams to You and Your Esteemed TV Programs.

Later Later. -- Oh dear. Wikipedia will teach you a whole bunch.

More Questions and Answers, Sirs

Last night, I promised to answer some more questions I have received privately. Here are a few:

1) Quest.: Are you religious?
Ans.: I am not. At least, not usually. I am afraid of the great Sky Basset. Whenever the rain comes hard and the sky goes black in the day, the Sky Basset shows his anger. First, his bright eye flashes and then he growls a celestial growl. And the ground shakes. At this point, I suspect he is coming to get me.
My reaction is to find a Sir, and whimper. If the growls are very loud, I will begin to shake and shove my head down the nearest available crevice (cushions in the couch, between pillows on the bed, Sirses' legs). If this happens at night, I will wake Mister Sir by barking and demand to hide between him while he sleeps.
If elected, I will spend millions investigating the Sky Basset and how to silence him. In every other way, it is unwise to spend money on religion.

Mister Sir edits: This is true. Sebastian is very afraid of thunder.
To be fair, this is very common amongst hounds. They are bred for field conditions -- large, broad, low-lying areas free of trees and tall structures. It's a natural progression for them to be afraid of lightning (and accompanying thunder) since in the field, they can be targets.
Unfortunately -- or rather, very fortunately -- I cannot find any statistics about hound lightning strikes


2) Quest.: What is your stance on defense spending?
Ans.: I believe a strong offense is the best defense.
For example, this one time, I bit Mister Sir. There was no reason, I just thought it was late, I was tired and he was in my face. So I bit his.
He was sort of pissed. He had to go to the hospital and get twenty stitches in his upper lip. I hear it took upwards of four hours and hurt a whole bunch. He even had to eat Thanksgiving Dinner in teeny little bites because of advanced lip swelling.
But he don't give me no lip these days.
This is my paradigm for defense practices.

Again, Mister Sir edits: This really, really is true. Sebastian bit me. I needed twenty stitches. It took four hours. The plastic surgeon at one point managed to cut open an artery and cover me with blood in the process.
Sebastian was eventually forgiven.

Sebastian Counter-edits: You were illicitly in my face, sir. This requires retribution. What would you do if I counter-struck by telling people that you were actually in your underpants in the picture marked "The Noble Brow of the Basset"? My honor, Mister Sir, my honor. Respect it.

Mister Sir Count-Counter-edits: You spend a measurable portion of each day sniffing poo and licking your crotch. Settle.

Sebastian Counter-Counter-edits: Sir, were they still there, I would lick my balls; I am a dog. Your people deny me this, sir.

Mister Sir Counter-Counter-Counter-edits: I cannot dispute this. You win, Poochles.

3) Quest.: What are thoughts on foreign relations?
Ans.: Alas, I cannot answer that til after the Tripartite Basset Commission meeting later this month.

Hams to you and yours.

It seems we have received another exciting comment. It is from Rocky's Mom.
I'm not sure who Rocky is, but hello to his mother.

She writes:

Hello Mr. Poochles,
I've been enjoying your journey and wish you the best of luck in your campaign. I live in DE and am looking forward to your visit. We have a lovely dog park at Carousel, where you are free to roam and socialize with other canines (I hope you are not the prejudice type, because we are a very diverse state...very gay friendly and welcome all dogs). We even have a few mixed marriages (dogs w/foxes, skunks w/cats, etc.). Hope to meet you soon.

Well, Ms Rocky's Mom, this will not be my first trip to Wilmington.
Many of my previous stays have been a swanky pad in Brandywine Park. From my condo, I could smell monkeys, otters, and a tiger from the zoo.

I sort of wanted to try to eat them.
In any case, I want to visit the grave of Alfred the Puma, who died a few years ago at the zoo.

I am curious about this Carousel place. Can I get some directions?

I look forward to meeting the canines of the area -- straight and gay and inter-species.

I wish you the plumpest of hams, madam.

Felicitations, Sirs.

I would like to thank all of you who sent kind words, gifts, flowers and hams yesterday.

Many of you will know that yesterday was May 15th, or as it is known in my homestead, Poochlesmas. It was my birthday.

I was served my favorite meal, split pea and ham soup with a little kibble. I was given some filet mignon treats. My belly was rubbed. I rounded out the evening with Mister Sir sipping bourbon and smoking a fine cigar.

In political news, today I received an invitation to the Tripartite Basset Commission. This is a great basset honor -- I am going to Wilmington, Delaware in a few weeks to meet with the basset ambassadors from England and France (Sir Bassetly Stinkerton, MRCSH* and L'Abbe du St Hubert) to chart out the plan for up-coming Basset Actions. I hope to gain the official backing of the TBC for my run for the presidency.

I shall return tomorrow with more questions and answers.

Hams to you and your loved ones.

*MRCSH means Member, Royal College of Scent Hounds

Sirs: More Reader Reactions

Greetings, sirs.
I see that our friend and fine, up-standing lady-sir Ms Night has left us another comment:

Dear Future President Sebastian,
I just read your latest article. The photo of you in the hat made me think of Gene Kelly! You look fantastic.

Regarding your accidents on the floor...not to worry. I have an Uncle who does that.

When I read about the 4% statistic I jumped with joy. I knew you were smarter, there was never a doubt in my mind.

Regarding your campaign promises, I will hold you to your word on changing the laws about dogs in hotels. That is a serious issue for certain and it should not fall into the cracks and disappear.

It is good to hear you are single. I just might have a cute bitch for you sometime soon. Would you have a problem with a pre-arranged marriage? Also please don't dismiss your sexually because of the "big snip". I've had 3 Labs, they all had the "snip" and they all found love and happiness with other males. Yes it's true! My dogs were all gay and I am damn proud of them. Think about it my friend!

Question: I was wondering...since you are cared for, do you not feel that in actuality you are the one in charge. Afterall, they are feeding you, grooming you, housing you and cleaning your poop. It would appear that you are the "Master of the house".

Another Question: What is your favorite song? My Labs loved "Who let the dogs out". I was curious as to what your choice would be.

I await your next article. As always, it was a pleasure.

Well, since the Big Snip, my thoughts just aren't as centered on amory. I am purely political these days: I am like many religious figure, like priests and monks of different religions, who uses sexual drive energy in other pursuits.
Perhaps after I have become president, I will have some sex.

Also, I am not a bigot. I can love both fair and dark, as Dr Donne said. If I find a nice male dog to grow gray-muzzled with, I will. If it turns out to be a she, then so be it.
I am like Captain Jack from Doctor Who and Torchwood. I am unisex.
...But I am happy your Labs were down with the Love That Dare Not Sniff Its Butt.

So: In short, I am not look for a love match. I am currently looking for a running mate, though.

I am glad you noticed my household leadership. I am in charge at home -- for the very reasons you point out. Not only have I maintained the household, I have improved it.
Since I arrived, household income has increased. Education levels have increased. General ham (and other meat) levels have increased. So have ambient cuteness levels -- up to 150% in some cases.
If elected, I will use such skills on the country at large. Poop may never appear on sidewalks again. Hams will be plentiful for all dogs. Many humans will have M.A. degrees.

My favourite song?
My taste is very eclectic, and I would be hard pressed to choose one single favourite song. I am a big fan of Belle and Sebastian, though, and 60s piano-based jazz like Herbie Hancock and Vince Guaraldi.

Hams to you lady-sir.

In the Park, Sirs

This weekend saw me campaign in Sunset Park, near my home in Brooklyn. It is a lovely place, with views of the Statue of Liberty and Lower Manhattan.
Rather than show that, though, I wanted a shot of me in front of the crowds, speaking.

What was I speaking about?
The Subway. I cannot ride it, nor can many good dogs in the city. And since many cabs won't take dogs, too many of my fellow canines are stuck in their home neighbourhoods.
Imagine the smells of Chinatown! Kielbasa in Park Slope! Italian Sausages and Peppers in Astoria! Ribs in the Bronx! And I assume people eat things in Staten Island, too, but am unwilling to investigate the issue.

And what really is awful is that is issue is mired in prejudice!
Little yappy dogs -- ill-begotten rat/dog hybrids like chihuahuas -- can ride in purses, but dependable useful breeds like German Shepherds, Labrador Retrievers and hounds of all stripes are denied.

My pledge to you, dogs and sirs and lady-sirs, is full access for all dogs: on the subway, on the trains, on the buses, on the ferries. In cabs.

Hams to You.
We'll see you in the Subways, Sirs.

Good Evening, Sirs.

We received out first comment recently from "night."
Hello, night. How are you, sir or madam?

Here is her/his comment:

Dear Mr. Poochles,
Your article was very interesting & I especially am interested in hearing where you stand on the political issues. So far your anti-bunny mention is a thumbs up for me. It is comendable that you finished obedience class! Hurray for you my friend.
If I may be so bold as to address you as Sebastian,I think you would make a good president since I am sure you know lots more right now than the one we have. Perhaps the first order of business you can tackle would be to work on those laws governing the pet adoptions. They really are annoying. Also it would be greatly appreciated if you can do something about the hotels that do not allow pets. I am so tired of sneaking my 12lb dog thru back doors in a large duffle bag. I would gladly pay for extra fee.
I look forward to reading more on your history etc. For now I shall say goodbye & it was a pleasure writing this comment to you.

Let's address some issue raised:

I'm glad my Anti-Bunny political stance pleases you. For too long, the wibbling noses and wanton breeding of the bunnies has oppressed all right-thinking people. Generations of Poochles have chased the bunnies through tall grass and flushed them out into the open to face the consequences for their actions. I am pleased to continue that tradition.

I am also pleased to have finished obedience school. I have to admit I was not first in my class. Other breeds behave better or faster than bassets. We are a stubborn people, and while many people link that to being dim, I link it strongly with being lazy.
And sometime I still have accidents on the floor.

My close associates tell me I am nearly 4% smarter than the current president. Virtually every one tells me I am moderately better spoken and generally more stinky than him.

I myself have been sneaked into hotels that do not allow dogs. It was demeaning. I pledge to change laws about dogs in all manner of hotels. And not just for little yappy dogs like chihuahaus, but for real, big dogs like Great Danes and Alsatians.

Hams to you, night.

I would also like to use this opportunity to answer some other questions put to me privately:

Quest.: Are you single?
Ans.: Yes. I have in the past been closely linked to Daisy the Basset, but she was a crazy bitch. She kept biting my butt, so she had to go. See picture above.
I have also had a long-standing admiration of Miss Flannery, but she, alas, will have nothing to do with me.
I suppose since the Big Snip it sort of doesn't matter.

Quest.: What are your living arrangements?
Ans.: I am cared for by Mister Sir. He feeds me, picks up my poop and rubs my belly. He is satisfactory.

Comment: Mr Poochles, I am Jewish. I find it vaguely offensive to be offered hams.
Ans.: My hams are purely metaphorical. I would never offer real hams, as I would eat them. If it makes you feel better about it, think of it as a large steak or well-cured bean curd.

Hams to you and your loved ones,

Sebastian K Poochles