Entry # 69
May 30, 2008
Hello Everyone. It’s me, Wimsey coming to you from Hound Headquarter on the Hudson. And what a week it’s been here in the big city. First of course it was Memorial Day weekend and the unofficial start of another spectacular New York summer. Shakespeare in the Park commenced last night and there were lines of people gathered to view an added great spectacle-- Wimsey in the Park, which in all modesty I think is a much better show and one which can be seen all year round. And then because of the holiday I had my human Maria around for four days of happy hounding. Her friend Elizabeth was much in evidence also— as she vowed to use the holiday to “catch up on things” (I wonder why these things are always running away from her and why she never seems to catch them no matter how hard she tries), but instead she spent three glorious days in the Park trying to catch up with me. And then of course Tuesday rolled around and Nothing Was Done (which was not strictly speaking true as I was thoroughly aired and exercised). But that is what happens when one succumbs to the blandishments of (scary music here please) Wimsey: The Time Vampire.
The History of the Time Vampire
Time Vampires originally appeared on earth in the ancient middle east where they delayed the construction of the pyramids by several millennia. And then Cleopatra and Mark Anthony lost Egypt to the Roman legions because they were too busy playing with their Time Vampire to notice a flotilla of whacking great Roman ships steaming up the Nile. Time Vampires were able to extend their range to Europe during the crusades when they were mistakenly transported there by Crusaders who thought they would be actually useful animals. They resided with the monks of St. Hubert-- an order that sadly became defunct because they ceased to engage in any activities unrelated to the raising and caring of Time Vampires (who also appropriated their name and became known as St. Hubert Dogs.) Tragedy occurred in the history of the Time Vampires when Louis XVI was so busy hunting with his Time Vampires that he failed to notice that no one had anything to eat, thus precipitating the French Revolution. Today Time Vampires can be found world wide quietly removing large chunks of time from the lives of unsuspecting humans.
Maria: It’s time to clean the apartment.
Wimsey Time Vampire: Here let me sit on you while think about the best way to go about it.
Maria: OK, just for a minute.
Wimsey Time Vampire: Here is the remote. You could watch those new DVDs you ordered while you massage my tummy. Won’t that be relaxing?
Maria: But I have to clean.
Wimsey Time Vampire: Why? I will only make things dirty again. And look! I have placed my head in your lap. Isn’t that sweet? Don’t you want to play with my ears and wrinkles?
Maria: Well, OK maybe just one DVD…
And how did Maria spend the day? Watching DVDs with her magnificent Time Vampire.
And, just to spread the wealth:
Elizabeth: I must sit at my computer and answer these urgent business emails.
Wimsey Time Vampire: Doesn’t Riverside Park look lovely this time of day?
Elizabeth: Yes, but I have work to do.
Wimsey Time Vampire: Me too. I have to sniff all that fragrant air pouring through the window. But. it would be even better if we were out walking together.
Elizabeth: Yes, but there are all these emails.
Wimsey Time Vampire: They aren’t going anywhere and walking is so healthy. And a walk will clear your head so you will be even more productive.
Elizabeth: Well, a short walk perhaps…
And how did Elizabeth spend the day? Walking in the park with her friend’s magnificent Time Vampire.
Anyway, apart from spending most of four days in the park, this Memorial Day was also memorable because I made a Very Special Friend. It turns out that there is another Manhattan Bloodhound living on the East Side! His name is Kolben and his human reports that he is sometimes mistaken for me! (Perhaps if he weren’t so well behaved he could be hired out as a Wimsey impersonator). Anyway, I have a man crush on Kolben but he behaves just like the lady bloodhounds upon whom I also have a crush-- maintaining a stately, dignified demeanor in the face of my unruly behavior. I tried everything in my antic arsenal to get him to play with me: The Play Bow, The Crouch, The Paw Poke, The Play Dead, The Roach and the Bay. All for three hours straight! (we Wimseys don’t believe in giving up easily. Or giving up at all in fact). Anyway even after three hours of steady baying. poking, crouching, lying flat, play bowing and roaching Kolben maintained his calm demeanor, only occasionally turning to me and saying “Wimsey, don’t be such an ass.” If I had no effect on him, at least I succeeded in making a spectacle of myself before the packed crowds in Central Park (“We can hear him at the other end of the park…” and ‘Is he always like that?”). And our humans had a delightful time comparing vet bills (Kolben may be silent and dignified, but he is still a true bloodhound after all), the injuries (he managed to pull his human down the stairs) the ear cleaning solutions and the anti-stink shampoos. Also his human Dan is way more cool than my humans—he plays bass in a band (http://myspace.com/hudsonrising) I am sure he can more fully appreciate my musical abilities-- perhaps I can sit in with them some time.
You can see a montage of our time together—such a handsome couple of Hounds are we. And I am sure next time we meet he will play with me…
And the fun didn’t end there. On Monday my humans and I went on another Northern Expedition to the wilds of Central Park above 96th street. I am now known as Wimsey the Great Black and Tan Squirrel Hunter of the North! Of course my humans had to stop and document our progress through The North Woods--yes there is really an area of Central Park called that, which I am sure, is news to the people who actually live in the northern reaches of the country with vast tracts of forest. Everything in Central Park has a specific name designed to make you think that you are not actually in the middle of a major metropolis (The Sheep Meadow, the Great Lawn, The Lake, the Ramble, etc), I don’t really think they are fooling anybody, but they get an “A” for effort and for confusing the tourists looking for sheep and major bodies of water. But of course I too have my own names for things such as the Towing Fence, Poop Hill, The Great Tree, Dog Fountain, The Hound Bench, Pee Meadow, etc, which I think are much more accurate.
And the other big news here this week is the opening of Sex and the City. However I think with a few small teaks they could have made a much better film:
Hound and the City
Hound 1: I’m hungry.
Hound 2: Yes, let’s eat—I’ve been watching my figure and am looking far too svelte.
Hound 3: Yes, I agree. Everyone knows that low body fat is a major cause of smoothness and you are far too young to have to resort to a wrinkle job.
Hound 4: Let’s have brunch in Central Park. It is a lovely day and there will be lots of delicious things to filch out of people’s picnic baskets.
Hound 1: Sounds great. Chewing up Manolos gives one quite an appetite.
Hound 2: I prefer Jimmy Choos myself.
Hound 3: But those are so 90s! Proenza Schouler is so much more modern. And they have much more textural variety.
Hound 4: But there is something to be said for the classics—a Chanel sling back for example, can make an excellent chew.
Hound 2: Yes, but tearing the buttons off those over priced boxy suits is a lot more fun.
Hound 1: True. By the way, I saw Mr. Big today.
Hound 2: You mean the vet?
Hound 1: Yes, I think he is in love with me. He seems to want to see quite a lot of me.
Hound 3: But everyone is always in love with us. We are beautiful, talented and narcissistic—what could be a better foundation for a relationship.
Hound 4: An excellent point.
Well before you run off to the movies, it is time to pop in and see another masterwork from the Wimsey Institute of Houndish Art. Now it’s just not new Yorkers who like to confer names upon their recreational areas—19th century Parisians liked to do it too. There was a recreational area and restaurant on a branch of the Seine called
La Grenouillere (“The Froggery”), which, as it involved edible leaping green things, sounds like a lot more fun than The Boathouse in Central Park! Bathing at La Grenouillere, (Claude Monet 1869, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). What can I say? Here we have all the light and shadow made so famous by the plein air technique of the impressionists (plein air being a fancy way to say outdoors in the same way that ”La Grenouillere” is of saying Fried Frogs Sold Here). But of course where there is good eating to be had there must needs be a Hound, a detail which Monet sadly omitted. However, this is easily rectified with the insertion of yet a nautical Hound about to sample the green leaping bounty of the Seine. La Wimseyere.
Until next time,
Wimsey, it’s not easy being black and tan
Friday, May 30, 2008
Entry # 69
Posted by Wimsey at 10:26 PM