We had a Doberman named Lugosi and a Bassett Hound named Tara. Lugosi died first, just a few years ago, and Tara followed the next summer. I am truly surprised she waited that long. They were the same age, had grown up together and were as bonded as a brother and sister--the kind who never fight, who do everything together, laugh and get in trouble together and play jokes on other people.
Tara & Lugosi used to work together to destroy the back fence. He would pull on boards with his teeth, she would dig out dirt underneath with her big paws, to give him more biting room. They'd keep at it until there was broken boards and splinters all around, and a hole big enough for them to squeeze through. Then they would be free to run around the neighborhood. They never went too far. And they were always together.
Neighbors would see them and phone us, "Your dogs are out." Lugosi looked scary. After all, he was a large Doberman with cropped ears and tail, at attention, ready to attack. But of course he never did. He just looked like that. Can a dog help the way he looks? Tara flopped around, following Lugosi everywhere. She somehow made him look cuter and more innocent, probably due to her Bassett hound cuteness.
Tara wasn't very bright. One time an upstairs window was open without a screen. Tara saw something go past on the front yard, probably a cat, and decided to chase it. By going through the window. My mom and I were in the living room and saw Tara fly through the air in front of our picture window, her big ears flapping. She fell on the grass, tumbled back up and went chasing after the cat.
Yes, sometimes I miss our dogs.