I was not lucky enough to have STEVEN as a puppy ,but was blessed to have 11 years with him. Steven came to Tristate Basset Rescue as a stray around the age of 2. I think the love affair with my sister and he started on the ride home from New Jersey to Long Island. Steven was just like a child, and went to Aunt Ronnie, who of course always said, YES! There were times I would have to tell her, No. My sister lives downstairs from me and that was Steven’s mancave, paradise, eden, off limits to the other hounds in the house. When they came down he let them know, it was “get your biscuit and scram”. My sister was a pile of mush when it came to Steven, he pawed the door until she caved to let him in, so he could get up on that king sized bed, meant only for her and him. Even in his later years, when arthritis started settling in, you were not stopping him from going downstairs, he whined and whined until he broke you. Steven’s favorite time of year was winter; he made more snow angels than you could imagine. He loved to face the wind and let those massive ears fly in the breeze. Steven enjoyed playing with each hound that came into our home, but it was always known he was King and they did not forget that. When he ran is was like he was doing the bunny hop. He loved people,and belly rubs were always welcomed with his big hairy belly. He would drink his water and always go straight to the edges of my bed to wipe his face. I could go on and on, like everyone, all of us proud of our furkids.

Steven runs with our Fred, Columbo, Buster T Frecklefeet, Miss Shelby from Alabama and all of the beloved Bassets and wannabes that have left us too soon.

Cathy Larsen