Peaches is blending into her new home as smoothly as peanut butter on a Kong toy. She's such a love and can't seem to get enough of it from me. She has really bonded with her new mom, and I couldn't be happier having this darling little girl in my life. She is by far the sweetest, most affectionate basset I've ever had, and I've had some mighty sweet ones. Tonight she lay on the carpet with me like Daisy used to while I stroked her and sang to her, which she really seemed to like. It's like she's trying to soak up all the love she's been missing the past three and a half years of her life, and I'm only too happy to give it. Her kennel cough is improving. We probably shouldn't have taken her for walks today because there was such a brisk wind, but she gets stir crazy staying indoors all day long. I put on her hand-me-down red striped sweater from Bramble, which fits her perfectly, even though he was just four months old when he wore it. She's so tolerant of my putting it on her. She lets me do anything without complaint and takes her pills easy as pie. Daisy would have fought me like a tiger if I'd tried to put a sweater on her. Since our poor ill-fated little Brammie never got to wear it much before he died, I'm glad she is wearing it. It looks like the sweater from the children's book, "Where's Waldo?" She looks so funny in it and kind of like a wiener dog because she's so long and skinny. She's a real peach and a keeper. Why she was surrendered not once but twice I'll never know. I suppose there are any number of lame excuses for dumping a perfectly good dog. Whoever did doesn't know what they missed.