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Pronounced Baz-ill, he’s our trusty sidekick, best friend till the end, package deal. Basil came to us in November of 2013. I was living alone with my miserable cat, had just moved back to my hometown after college, and was doing a life reset. I moved into my own apartment and was stacking my moving boxes on my back porch when my friend advised I shouldn’t keep them there too long because I might get rats. Of course, I didn’t listen and kept them stacked out for a week. It was cold and snowy and I was feeding an orange stray cat. One night I was going out to get the mail after work and it was already dark by 5:00 pm. As I went out my back door I heard a rustling in the boxes. My heart stopped. It had happened, the dreaded rats. Freaking out I grabbed the top box, then the second, and third, and threw them off my porch. Finally got to the second to last box and it was really heavy for an empty box. I lifted it up and something said, Jenn stop. I looked inside, and there he was. A matted, dingy, disgusting fur ball. I realized it wasn’t a rat at all. Just a scruffy-looking hungry dog. Once I calmed down, I brought him inside and went to work. After 2 hours of washing, brushing, detangling, and trimming the best I could, I had something that represented a dog. I spent a few weeks after listing him in the newspaper, Craigslist, and local bulletin boards as a found dog. No one claimed him, and the rest is history.
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