Apr 3
“NANCY EVANS KENNEL
FOR THE BEST IN BASSETS THE PROOF IS IN THE WINNING
Four of our lovely young ladies”
Basset Hounds
Dog World Magazine, December 1964, p. 54.
seen from Sweden
seen from Spain
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Sweden
seen from Russia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
“NANCY EVANS KENNEL
FOR THE BEST IN BASSETS THE PROOF IS IN THE WINNING
Four of our lovely young ladies”
Basset Hounds
Dog World Magazine, December 1964, p. 54.
Ce ne sont que des carnassiers
Everything had been set in place.
Today, the casino was closed, long enough for the guests to be gone, but for Quackity to still be in his office making up paperwork, so the Dogs stepped outside.
Rotty and Bull had begrudgingly gone along with the plan as Shepherd led them through it. Each stood just outside the property line, their shadows casting long black forms of themselves onto the tall casino walls. Today it would crumble. The boys pushed and shoved each other, playfully. The weight of the situation not creeping in until a text came through. With a breath, the boys looked around. Shepherd stepped forward.
Basset stood outside Quackity's house. He'd ran Cone to Rev's so he would be safe. Alaska was supposed to be here, he was supposed to be the one to blow the lid. But Basset didn't see him. He stood outside Quackity's yard, looking down at the control to his hand. As his phone buzzed, he pushed the button with a small click.
The sand shifted as thousands of pounds of materials were sent sky high. The boys at the casino running from the aftermath towards Shepherd's truck as chunks crashed into neighboring buildings, hooting and hollering at a job well done. Gunpowder and smoke clouded the sky like it had suddenly become night.
Quackity's house crumbled. Glass shot in every direction and a fire screamed out of the rubble. Chunks of foundation and beaten ground, covered the area as Basset tried. To run. He tried. He wasn't ready. The remnants of a family home, shattered into the ground. Basset took cover in a neighboring storm shelter, crying as he heard crashes of the fire spreading.
Under thousands if not millions of pounds of rubble, a heartbeat fell still.
daily sketch #31: goodnight
"Don't move too fast! I might poke you in the wrong place…hehe…!"
Stim gifs of my dogs!
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