Wimsey's Blog: Diary of a Manhattan Bloodhound

Entry # 52
February 1, 2008

Hello Everyone. Wimsey here. Well, what can I say? I’ve been Newfed! Last Saturday on our way to show handling class in New Jersey (only the strongest possible incentive can induce my humans to leave the Island of Manhattan, and in that wholly foreign conveyance, an automobile, no less!) my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth and I stopped off for an all too brief visit with our blog buddies Nanook the Newfy and his lively adolescent brother Pooka (http://nanookthenewfy.blogspot.com). I must admit that at first I was a bit apprehensive—the size of these guys alone is enough to give one pause, not to mention the fact that there are two of them—it was like being inspected by two mastodons or something-- and for those who have never actually seen me, no one has ever accused me of being petite myself (I weigh 125lbs). I had visions of becoming a bloodhound sandwich! But then these massive, majestic beasts indicated that perhaps a little game of chase might break the ice and off we went. It was all great fun, especially the part where I body slammed the charging Nanook to excellent effect (I knew immediately that it was to excellent effect because my humans yelled at me) but as Nanook had previously tried to hump my head I didn’t feel to badly about it (note to self: discuss basic biology with Nanook).

Anyway, these guys are non-stop fun and drop dead gorgeous. The only downside is that they are also incredibly well behaved, which caused my humans to cast a few jaundiced glances in my direction (“Why can’t Wimsey be more like a Newf?” and “Perhaps shaggy coat and obedient behavior are linked genes. Can we make Wimsey shaggy?”). No, really it has nothing to do with shaggy coats and everything to do with the fact that the Newfs’ owners don’t roll about laughing when they misbehave and even try to do something about it. For instance, like when I took a bite out of our hostesses’ sandwich--I bet the Nanook and the Pooka are firmly discouraged from such antics. But for me it was all (“Oh Wimsey. (sigh) Not again.”). And it was quite an excellent sandwich which means that the Newfs’ human Vanessa has the same outstanding taste in food as she does in canines.

Well the snack was very much appreciated as I needed all my energy for show dog class (and it is a well known fact that food tastes much better when it is stolen—nothing really worth having in life is easy to obtain). And I must say, the show dog class was fantastic! It was taught by a nice human named Gina Ryan (North Star Collies) and even though she is not yet a Houndite, I heartily recommend her for any type of training. Elizabeth was given multiple stern lectures about how she had to make everything fun for me and how my happiness was paramount to show ring success. For instance Gina observed that Elizabeth was merely carrying liver and chicken and it was all “Perhaps Wimsey would like some London Broil?” (Yes, in fact Wimsey would like some London Broil). And “You must play with Wimsey more! Entertain him! Don’t let him get bored!” So I am asking myself, “Can this woman come live with us???” Clearly she immediately took on board the Wimsey-Centric view of life that I have been trying so hard to inculcate in my humans. No matter how many experts my humans consult, they always receive the same disappointing (for them) answer:

Maria and Elizabeth: Namaste great guru, Maharishi Mahesh Houndi. Can you tell us what is the secret of life?
Guru: It is all about Wimsey. (and eating lots of green vegetables).

Maria and Elizabeth: Guten Tag Herr Philosophisch Professor Wittgenhound. Can you tell us the meaning of life?
Professor Witttgenhound: Logically speaking, that is a complicated question, but the simple answer is that it is all about Wimsey.

Maria and Elizabeth: Good morning Professor Houndstein. Can you tell us something about the composition of life?
Professor Houndstein: Relatively speaking that is a difficult question although objectively it is not. The Universe is composed of strong forces and weak forces. But the most important force is Wimsey.

And of course all the dogs in the class were beautiful and better behaved than I was which only means that my humans will have to work even harder to make it fun for me (or I will make it fun for them in ways they might not necessarily appreciate-- see entry # 16: Xtreme Show Handling).

Anyway, when it was all over, I did a bit of singing to entertain the class (and also to encourage Elizabeth to fork over the plastic water bottle she was holding) and then we all piled back into the rented car, turned on the GPS and headed back to Wimsey Island (this has a much better ring to it than Manhattan Island, don’t you think). Now this GPS thing is quite interesting—it is supposed to tell you where to go so you don’t get lost, but in spite of the fact that Elizabeth has absolutely no sense of direction and always gets lost, she refused to obey it (I wonder if she has any Hound blood). Not only that, but she talks back to it—including explaining to it at great length why it was preferable to take the Lincoln Tunnel rather than the George Washington Bridge. It didn’t seem to care. Now I may not be the brightest Hound (although I am quite clever, which is a different thing entirely), but at least I know better than to talk back to inanimate objects. However as useless as the GPS proved for her, I still think it has great potential:

Hound Positioning System (HPS)

HPS: In 3 feet turn left. Turn left. There is an unattended piece of chicken on the counter.

Hound: Excellent advice.

HPS: Recalculating. Go straight. In 0.0001 mile turn right. Turn right. Some idiot left the toilet seat up.

Hound: An excellent way to wash down the chicken!

HPS: Recalculating: Turn right. Turn right! There is a dirty brassiere hanging on a door knob 160 degrees behind you. Shred.

Hound: What marvelous directions!

GPS: Recalculating. Go straight. Go straight. In 20 feet, turn right. Turn right. In 5 feet go left. Go left. Ascend 1.3 feet. A lap has opened up. Crush human. Crush human. Crush human.

I think I could sell a lot of these devices! Anyway, preparations for this weekend’s outing to Cape May and my showing in Wildwood are in full swing. Elizabeth has a two page, color coded list of the things that I require for my maximum comfort and I am to be bathed yet again tonight---the ladies are testing some new finishing spray which is supposed to make me super shiny (it’s bad enough that they are using a chamois to shine me—what’s next, Turtle Wax?). Nevertheless, Maria is afraid the hotel will take one look at me and refuse to house us, but Elizabeth says that if she can keep a straight face she will just assure the front desk that I am a show dog and very well behaved. I’d pay good money to hear that! But I must say I am looking forward to peeing on sand.

The other good news this week is that my anal glands have been proclaimed much improved which means that I will no longer be carted to the vet’s on Sundays for the canine equivalent of a high colonic. I am already feeling purged and more spiritually pure. (If humans had anal glands, I am sure expressing them would constitute a costly spa treatment). And on that note, it is time for our weekly pilgrimage to the Wimsey Institute of Houndish Art.

Today we return to the Metropolitan Museum of Art here in New York to look at the work of society portrait painter Sir Thomas Lawrence:

Elizabeth Farren (Sir Thomas Lawrence, 1790, Metropolitan Museum of Art New York). Since we are so preoccupied these days with the success that beauty can bring, we have no better subject than Elizabeth (great first name) Farren, an Irish actress who later traded up big time and became the Countess of Derby. Kind of like “Sex and the City” goes Georgian. (I bet the relatives were thrilled and I suspect that the Earl, whose second wife she was, was short, fat and bald). Anyway, in this portrait Ms. Farren is looking at us and carelessly ignoring the fact that she is dangling quite an alluring piece of fur. How much more sense the painting makes if her carelessness has attracted the attentions of a fur loving Hound. Wimsey Farren.


Well just as reminder for those of you who might be available, I will be at Madison Square Garden on February 11th. My humans would love to see you, but be aware that Maria will not be at the bench with me until after my class (1:15pm Ring 6). She is voluntarily absenting herself in the hopes of improving my behavior (as if). But Elizabeth and crack ASPCA dog trainer Beverly will be happy to call her for you and arrange for a chat out of scent range of my powerful nose (New Jersey, perhaps?). And of course after my class Maria will be velcroed to me as usual.

So until next time when we resume

The Fabulous Adventures of Wimsey (or is it The Adventures of the Fabulous Wimsey?)