Woof! Talk about sandy paws!! I totally had ’em when I innerviewed Harley Garvey this week!
Harley’s The Biggest Basset Hound I’ve EVER seen. 80 pounds. Hansome an frenly. Even tho his breed’s English, he’s from Sydney, Auss-TRAIL-yuh. An, I woof you not, he has the longest ears I ever saw onna fellow pooch.
Harley, a Skilled Sand Hiker, suggested meeting at his house then walking right down to the beach (way far down with no humans or pooches).
Soon as we rang, we heard lotsa Major Barking. The door opened an there was Harley anna human lady. He was waggin’ an barkin.’ I mean BARKIN! Finally, he approached for the Wag-an-Sniff.
“G’day, mate!” he said cheerfully. “WELCOME!”
“Good … um, G’day, mate to you, too,” I blurted. “You do have a very impressive bark. Deep.”
“I’m a Barker,” he said with a grin. “I bark at pretty much everything. It’s what I do. Wait’ll you hear my BAY!”
“I dunno how it could be bigger than that bark,” I commented, my ears still ringing.
Harley laughed. “It’s fair dinkum, mate! Anyway, this is my Mama, Marica. My Dad, Gerald’s at work. My human brother Thomas is 10. We hang out an play tag an we’re sleepin’ buddies. My sister Amelia’s 13. She’s in boarding school.”
At that point, a very little, very fluffy pooch came rushing up. “Innerduce me, why doncha, Harley!”
“An THIS is my liddle pal Elly. She’s a Yorkiepoo.”
Elly’s hair was wild an wavey an, I’m pretty sure, every hair was goin’ inna different direction, her eyes mostly hidden buh-hind her bangs.
It was hilarious an adorable.
“HI, Mr. Bonzo! Are you gonna put my name in your story, too?”
“A pleasure, Miss Elly. Indeed I am,” I replied.
“OK, so let’s head on down to the beach,” said Harley, an off we went, along a sandy walkway winding through a field of sea grapes.
While Elly splashed in the soap-sudsy part of the water, I opened my notebook, an Harley began his tail.
“I was one of seven pooches bein’ trained for the show ring. I didn’t like it from the start. Not one liddle bit. It made me very nervous. So, whenever the others went to shows, I’d get stuffed inna crate outside. Even when it rained. Didn’t get any exercise. I was just ignored. ’Cept when our trainer took us to the park. That’s when Mama first met me. She already hadda Basset, named Nina, and me an Nina became best mates right away, we loved each other. She totally had a mind of her own.
“Well, every time we were at the park, the trainer would complain to Mama how unhappy she was with me cuz I didn’t have the temperament to be a show dog. Mama could see I was duh-pressed an unwanted, so, after about a year of that, she finally asked the lady if she could buy me. Well, the lady said she’d GIVE me to Mama for FREE, which made everybody happy, specially me an Nina.
“Mama had her hands full nursing me back to health. I was overweight, couldn’t climb stairs, had zero confidence. I even hadda go to Dog Therapy. It was hard yakka, but we all made it through.
“We lived on the ocean there, too, an I loved swimmin’. It was lovely, me an Nina an Mama an Dad.
“Then, when I was around 2, we moved from Sydney to California. Me an Nina shared a crate an we did well on the very, very, very long flight, in the tummy of that big sorta bird machine.
Then, about a year ago” – Harley got a faraway look in his already “sad puppy” Basset eyes, an lowered his voice – “Nina hadda go across the Rainbow Bridge. I still miss her terribly. She had long ears like mine. I loved her very much.
“And that’s when we got Elly. Thomas wanted a pooch he could play ball with an that wasn’t me, for sure. So we adopted Elly from The Kern Project rescue. At first I was like, ‘Crikey, Who’s this liddle mop?’” he said fondly, nudging Elly, who had returned from the surf an was lounging in a soggy heap in the sand. “Now we’re best mates. We eat outta the same bowl and respect each other’s space, ya know.”
Suddenly, Harley looked up the beach an began barking. A man an a big pooch onna leash were approaching. Harley’s Mom snapped his leash on. Harley sat still an, as the pair neared, completed his commanding communication. The two passed with frenly greetings and headed on down the beach.
I was impressed. Harley had informed the approaching pooch that we – his Mom, Elly, me, an my assistant – were his Pack, an made it clear he was the leader. Pawsome.
“I consider this beach my therapy,” Harley explained. “An hour or so every day. Nothin’ like it. I also attend Senior Dog Therapy and, every Monday, I get a massage from Miss Jill at Treasure Coast Animal Rehab. Does wonders.”
“Well, I enjoy chasin’ lizards!” announced Elly, not to be outdone. “I call it Lizard Therapy. Never Catch ’em or anything. They run. I run. They stop. I stop.”
“We both enjoy socializing with fellow pooches an humans,” Harley continued. “Once a month, we take a leisurely walk along Ocean Drive. Everyone says G’day. So many pooches and humans; bowls of water set out all along the way; treats from the shopkeepers. And, of course, bein’ a hound, I greatly enjoy all the amazing smells.”
Back toward the house, at the end of the sandy path, Harley an Elly lifted one paw atta time so their Mama could rinse the sand off. Me an my assistant did the same.
Headin’ home, I was wishin’ I’d had time to ask Harley if he’d ever met a kangaroo. Or a wild Dingo. Hopefully, those’ll be stories for another day.
Till next time,
