Ray Pritchard pastored in Los Angeles, Dallas and Chicago. Married to Marlene for 38 years, he enjoys being a husband, a father and a grandfather, riding his bike, and playing with Dudley and Gary, beloved basset hounds.
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We got Dudley on Christmas Eve, 2005, when we were still living in the cabin by the lake. We inherited Gary after Nick graduated from Samford and his housemates voted him out, a cruel thing to do to a basset hound. Nick wanted to keep him but was outvoted. So we’ve had Gary for about two years now, which has worked out fine since basset hounds are the finest dogs you can find, especially if you live in Mississippi because they love to lay in the sun even on the hottest afternoons. Plus they are extremely social, love people, have floppy ears, sad eyes, they drool and shed and bark and eat and drink and then they shed some more.
Last night Dudley climbed up on my lap so he could rest his chin on my knee. I think they boys missed us while we were gone to Michigan. We certainly missed them. There’s nothing quite like having a 55-pound basset hound flopped on your lap. If that doesn’t say “I love you,” what does?
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