Hello Everyone, Wimsey here, coming to you from sun and fun filled New York City where I am, as usual, holding court for the adoring humans of Manhattan’s Upper West Side. I don’t know, sometimes I think that all the admiration and adulation will go to my head and I’ll become demanding and obnoxious.
Of course my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth already consider me demanding and obnoxious-- very much in the style of my idol Gordon Ramsey. In fact, the ladies often think I am a tad too much like him for their own good. And I will admit that like Gordon, I am something of a perfectionist, especially with regard to matters concerning my own personal comfort:
Hell Hound’s Kitchen
Hell Hound: SOMEONE! THERE’S DROOL IN MY WATER BOWL!! THAT’S DISGUSTING! YOU CAN’T SERVE ME WATER LIKE THAT. LOOK AT IT! WOULD YOU DRINK THAT WATER!
Human: No Hound. But then again I don’t drool in my water in the first place.
Hell Hound: NONE OF YOUR LIP MADAME. CHANGE THIS WATER IMMEDIATELY!
Human: Yes Hound.
Hell Hound: WHY IS MY KIBBLE BOWL EMPTY!? MY KIBBLE BOWL SHOULD NEVER BE EMPTY. THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT OF FREE FEEDING YOU LAZY DONKEY. NOW GET THIS BOWL FILLED. AND THE KIBBLE HAD BETTER BE FRESH! AND SCRAMBLE SOME EGGS FOR IT TOO. IT’S BLAND! I WOULDN’T FEED THIS TO A DOG!
Human: Yes Hound. Right on it Hound.
Hell Hound: NOOO! NOT AGAIN! WHERE’S MY STUFFED DOG?!
Hell Hound: WHAT’S IT DOING UNDER THERE!
Human: You shoved it under there, Hound.
Hell Hound: AND IF I STUFFED YOU UNDER THERE TOO WOULD YOU STAY UNDER THERE, YOU MORON! THE STUFFED DOG IS NEVER TO BE LEFT UNDER THE COUCH. DO YOU UNDERSTAND! HE’S VERY SENSITIVE.
Hell Hound: WHAT’S THIS! WHERE IS THE SOFT SHEET FOR THE BED THAT I LIKE TO NAP ON!
Human: I forgot to put it on Hound.
Hell Hound: YOU FORGOT! YOU FORGOT! JUST DO IT!
Human: Yes Hound!
Hell Hound: AND WHY ARE YOU ON THE BED WITH ME!
Hell Hound: YOU’RE CROWDING ME! YOU’RE HUGE! GET OFF OF MY BED NOW BEFORE I SHOVE YOU OFF!
Human: Yes Hound!
Hell Hound: STOP! WHY IS THIS GENTLE LEADER ON MY MUZZLE!
Human: Because we’re going down five flights of stairs and I want to stay alive.
Human: Yes Hound. I know.
Hell Hound: WELL I AM FEELING GENEROUS TODAY, SO I HAVE A SPECIAL TREAT FOR YOU. I AM GOING TO DEMONSTRATE THE PROPER WAY TO CLEAN OUT A REFRIGERATOR.
Human: Thank you Hound!
But I know my humans forgive me all my small foibles (and large bruises), especially when they opened up this Saturday’s NY Post and saw a picture of my handsome mug and a cute write up about my fierce desire to track down police officers in order to get them to pet me. And all because of a small chat I had with a reporter at last week’s AKC’s Meet the Breeds press conference. And quite satisfyingly, the picture of one of the actually obedient dogs at the press conference was on the next page and was smaller than mine. Let’s face it, naughty dogs are just more entertaining than obedient ones—especially if you don’t happen to be the person responsible for it. We Hounds are the masters of schadenfreude. To know me is to love me. Or else to be appalled. I think it depends on which side of the leash you happen to be.
But I am handsome charming, amusing and witty—in fact a lot like the fellow I was named after, Dorothy L. Sayers suave British sleuth, Lord Peter Wimsey. Apparently the New Yorker magazine is having a contest for the dog best dressed like a fictional character and the ladies were discussing the possibility of me wearing a monocle and top hat and tails like Lord Peter. But of course even if such items could be procured in my size, the problem becomes how on earth to get me to wear them. Maybe the ladies should start with something less ambitious—like getting me to sit.
Anyway, Dorothy L. Sayers wrote all these lively mysteries about Lord Peter Wimsey in the 1920s and 30s and as a great admirer of hers, I have my own versions:
Dorothy L. Sayers Oeuvre (Wimsey Oeuvre)
Busman’s Honeymoon (Human’s Honeymoon Spent Sleeping on the Couch Because the Hound Has Left You No Room in the Bed).
Gaudy Night (Gaudy Clothing Covered in Drool)
The Nine Tailors (The Nine Tailors Who Became Rich Repairing Clothing of People Who Live With Hounds)
Have His Carcass (Have the Turkey Carcass Out of the Garbage Bin)
Five Red Herrings (Zero Red Herrings and One Hound With Fish Breath)
Strong Poison (Strong Gin and Tonic: It's What You Feel Like Taking After a Day Spent With Me)
Lord Peter Views the Body (Hound Wimsey Crushes the Body)
Unnatural Death (The Unnatural Life My Humans Lead Because They Have To Take Care of Me)
But anyway, on Saturday Elizabeth actually went to the Meet the Breeds event and speculated about what it would have been like if I had been invited and all the gin and tonics she would have had to have consumed in order to recover from it. And the breed booths were quite elaborate-for example, the one displaying Afghans looked like a desert tent (it really should have looked like a dessert tent since the Afghan is a Hound after all). The bloodhound booth was very tasteful—deceptively so. A more accurate booth would have consisted of piles of shredded books and newspapers, chewed up gloves and shoes, eaten furniture, an artistic mound of partially masticated cushions and a mob of screaming humans. In addition, the walls of the booth would have been papered with an extravagant design of vet bills and letters of complaint from irate neighbors. And of course everything, especially the people manning the booth would be coated with drool, arrayed in both blotch and slinger designs.
But it has been a good week overall, although not nearly as exciting as last week. We did have some wet, cold weather which prompted a raincoat shopping expedition—for me of course. My original yellow slicker ripped owing to the fact that it was a bit tight and its replacement arrived too small. More sizism! So off we paced to the pet store to buy a fancy raincoat—here I am shopping and trying it on. We bought the coat you see, only in a more appropriately eye catching red and black because a giant, smelly baying Hound in the middle of Manhattan is not quite eye catching enough. My humans believe that the fact that I have a jazzy new raincoat virtually guarantees that it won’t rain again for eons.
And then this week Elizabeth and I ran into her friend Nancy (a fellow ASPCA volunteer), her little daughter Alicia and her adopted Yorkie, Zorro (poor Zorro is terrified of even normal looking things, so you can imagine how delighted he was to meet a large, loud and nasally interrogative Hound such as myself). This meeting was a happy coincidence as it turned my paltry one and a half hour afternoon walk into a three hour Wimsey park extravaganza. And as if I am not conspicuous enough on my own, when you add a cute child and a little dog the cameras really come out in force. Perhaps my loud baying owing to the fact that the ladies were hogging the soda bottles and Zorro seemed reluctant to be inhaled whole, had something to do with all the attention . Nancy, like Elizabeth, is an experienced dog volunteer, skilled in modifying unwanted canine behavior. Now usually Elizabeth likes to tease Nancy about her difficulty in applying these skills to the management of her child. But somehow with me next to her Elizabeth remained strangely silent on the topic.
Anyway, Elizabeth is sneaking off to Disney World for a couple of days. She says it’s business, but nobody believes her. And she has the temerity to leave me behind. I think I would have a pretty good time chasing Mickey and the scaring children. But there is some talk about bringing me back a pair of mouse ears to wear which I am doing my best to discourage--unless of course the ears are attached to an actual mouse.
Well anyway, I think with those thoughts I must close. We are having unseasonably warm weather here now which my humans were hoping would mitigate my traditional October friskiness, so it is important that I conserve my energies in order to prove them painfully wrong.
Until next time,