Wimsey's Blog: Diary of a Manhattan Bloodhound #119

Entry #119
May 15, 2009

Hello Everyone. It’s me Wimsey coming to you from Manhattan’s exciting Upper West Side where I have been out and about to an amazing extent entertaining my fellow citizens. It has been a very good week here Wimsey-wise-- so much so that I hardly know where to begin. On the way home from Sunday’s walk I hit the police officer jackpot! My human Maria and her friend Elizabeth have long noticed my utter fascination with New York’s finest. I regularly try to sneak into the 20th Precinct, become excited by the sight of police cars and can’t help myself from trying to climb on in and join them on patrol. When I see police in the street I insist on towing vigorously towards them to say hi and I lie down and refuse to move until they pet me. But sadly these wonderful creatures generally only seem to come in ones and twos so you can imagine my delight when I espied an entire troop of them! I do wish they’d take me on patrol—I am sure I’d be a great asset:

Wimsey on Police Patrol

Wimsey: Is it time for doughnuts yet?

Officer: Not yet. Right now we have to apprehend a perpetrator who is stealing a bicycle.

Wimsey: What! Stealing is illegal?!

Officer: Yes it is.

Wimsey: Who knew? But why would anyone want to steal a bicycle. It’s not edible.

Officer: True but people steal all kinds of things.

Wimsey: Like underwear!

Officer: Not exactly. But look! There is a man snatching a purse! Let’s get him!

Wimsey: Purses can be eatable. Chewy but eatable. Have you ever experienced the impact of 126 lbs. of a rampaging Hound running at full tilt?

Officer: No.

Wimsey: Well the purse snatcher is about to. He won’t like it. Or so my humans tell me.

Officer: OK Sir. I will now read you your rights: You have the right to remain silent..

Wimsey: Except when I poke you in the crotch with my muzzle..

Officer: Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…

Wimsey: Especially any remarks threatening a Hound when he is in the course of doing his duty by using his wet cold nose to hunt for concealed sandwiches on your person..

Officer: You have the right to speak to an attorney..

Wimsey: But not to complain about the fact that you are being sat upon by a giant smelly Hound.

Officer: And to have an attorney present during questioning…

Wimsey: ..Although derogatory testimony about the giant smelly Hound is inadmissible owing to his sensitive nature…

Officer: If you cannot afford a lawyer one will be provided for you at government expense..

Wimsey: But you will be charged for the biscuits the Hound will extort from him during the interrogation.

Officer: Book him.

Wimsey: There are books? I like books. Not quite as chewy as purses but they shred better. Well Officer, another successful day-- although Hounds usually measure their success by the amount of peace they destroy not by the amount of peace they keep. I think I will take charge of the evidence now; Louis Vuitton is one of my favorites.


I am sure the officers of the 20th Precinct would love to have me in the squad car—especially since I love to drive!

Now also this week I managed to crash an evening picnic that several families were having and I was surrounded by an admiring group of adults and kids while Maria extolled my innumerable virtues. And Elizabeth who, unlike Maria, has a wide experience of dogs that are not Hounds, even managed to hold her tongue. I did try very hard to imbibe some of the nice wine they were drinking but I was given a lovely empty water bottle to play with instead. So now, in addition to police officers, I also tow to say hello to picnickers. Those nice people have a lot to answer for—it takes very little to encourage a Hound to behave badly (or like a Hound).

And speaking of picnics, on Wednesday we all went to the Loeb Boathouse Café for lunch where I highly recommend ordering the tuna sandwich and French fries. And one gentleman was so struck by my Houndly beauty and deportment that he wanted to buy me my own roast beef sandwich. I was very much in favor of this but my human vetoed the idea. And Maria wonders why I do things like run on her back with my giant paws at night when I have a running dream. I was chasing after that man and my roast beef sandwich.

And as I mentioned last week New Yorkers are very enthusiastic about the new Star Trek movie. It has even influenced my humans—this also happened this week:


Star Date 2009.0512

Lt. Maria: Captain Wimsey, we have been summoned on an away mission in sector 0319 of Central Park by Lt. Elizabeth of the Starship LL Bean.

Captain Wimsey: Yes, I know. We Hounds always know when an away mission is imminent. Especially those that involve the use of the automotive shuttlecraft. We are to rendezvous at 17:30 hours. Prepare the equipment and do not forget to pack sufficient provisions as you know how peckish I get during away missions. Meanwhile I will be resting in my quarters with my new large stuffed squeaky dog.

Lt. Maria: Aye Aye Captain. We are ready to proceed.

Captain Wimsey: We will just transport to the bottom of all these stairs.

Lt. Maria: But we don’t have a transporter.

Captain Wimsey: I know but we have the manual Hound transporter—it’s just as fast and just as dangerous.

(Cut to: The Ramble, Central Park)

Captain Wimsey: Ah, a P class environment my favorite. Hang on! Red Alert! Tricorder nose readings indicate a raccoon bearing 63 mark 8. Engage tractor beam.

Crew: Inadvisable Captain. The alien is hostile and is in possession of pointy teeth and sharp claws.

Captain Wimsey: Engage tractor beam! I must make first contact!

Crew: All hands! Alert! Haul Captain Wimsey hard a port!

Captain Wimsey: I am very displeased! I will have you all court martialed. Or better yet I will sit on you.

Crew: We had no choice Captain. Interfering with a raccoon is a violation of the Prime Directive. Also we can’t afford the vet bill.


I was immensely annoyed at being denied the opportunity to visit with the raccoon and promptly stalked off to my room with my giant squeaky dog when we got home. He is the only one who understands me. I take him everywhere and he even sleeps with me. And when I wake up from a nap the first thing I do is give him a few squeaks, day or night, so my human always knows when I am awake. Maria loves the squeaky dog too—especially when I shove him into her face and squeak him!

I mean I give my humans so much and they deny me the simple pleasures of life like messing with a raccoon. And in spite of their protestations that being with me is taking years off their lives I know that I am really responsible for keeping them healthy. I think instead of prescribing pills, doctors should prescribe Hounds:

Are you tired, depressed, overweight? Sleeping too much, sleeping too little or have no friends? Do you have too much nervous energy? Are you pompous? Full of yourself? Spend too much time working? Forget all those pills, potions and lotions! Now there’s Miracle Hound. Miracle Hound is a complete life system guaranteed to restore your mind and body to a robust state of health. Miracle Hound can cure anything, anywhere, anytime. Talk to your doctor today and see if Miracle Hound is right for you. (Disclaimer: Miracle Hound may cause broken bones and abrasions. Do not use Miracle Hound if your home contains valuable possessions. Side effects of Miracle Hound include an increased alcohol consumption, high blood pressure, financial ruin, body odor, lack of fashion sense, bruises in funny places, underwear with holes, exhaustion, uneven arm lengths and slime).

Get Miracle Hound today and start on the road to a happier, healthier and certainly funnier (although not necessarily in a good way) life!

Now the other really big thing that happened this week is that I received a package from Fairbanks, Alaska. As some of you know, I have been writing to the second graders of Denali Elementary School in Fairbanks about New York City. And they sent me thank you letters and drawings and salmon treats. It was quite thrilling and I enjoyed hearing from all of them; I was especially taken with the drawings that featured yours truly (and my much admired deep forehead wrinkle). Now in honor of this, The Wimsey Institute of Houndish Art will be featuring a few of these drawings each week along with my usual erudite commentary.

Our first artist is Alex with a very impressive view of me on the Staten Island Ferry. Notice his strong sense of line—reminiscent of a young Picasso I think—and how his bold use of primary colors draws our eye into the scene. He has also cleverly eliminated extraneous details, placing the action against a stark canvas and the subject matter benefits enormously from his minimalist aesthetic. He has also borrowed a bit from some impressionist works in his cropping of the sun which lessens the sense of artificiality one gets when one views a painting. And of course his rendering of me, complete with my black saddle and perhaps in mid-bay and preparing to go for a swim is masterly. Alex: Wimsey About to Go Swimming in the Water.

Next we have a pastoral scene by Jamilya. What strikes us immediately is her rhythmic, and van Gogh-like use of cross hatching which adds interest and intensity to the limitless horizon. We also note with pleasure her use of symmetry in the echoing verticals of the tree and the girl as well as of the two central clouds. This is delightfully balanced by the seeming asymmetry of the three central flowers. However, when we look closely we realize that the space occupied by the three flowers is in fact equaled by the space taken up by the magnificent Hound, thus maintaining the internal symmetry of the work. A ball is seen in mid-flight yet both figures look directly into the viewers’ eyes as if they have been surprised unawares in the middle of the game. What a dynamic and delightful scene! Jamilya: Me and Wimsey at the Park Playing Ball.

Well it is time for me to go commune with my squeaky dog and berate Maria for the loss on my roast beef sandwich and raccoon. We are yet again expecting some wet weather so I don’t suppose I will have nearly as exciting a week this week. But one never knows—especially when one lives with a Hound.

Until next time,

Wimsey, Artist’s Muse