Entry #154
January 29, 2010
Hello Everyone. It’s me Wimsey, right back where I belong letting the world know how they’re hanging on Manhattan’s Upper West Side (although today they are not hanging very far due to the cold, windy weather that has suddenly come upon us).
Anyway, first as you can see from my headshot we had the long awaited photo session featuring the bear hat that my human Maria received as her secret Santa present. I am incredulous that humans would want to wear such an item but apparently the people at Maria’s office Christmas party evinced such an intense desire to obtain the bear hat that Maria was forced to turn down innumerable tempting swap offers in order to retain possession. Apparently everyone wanted the bear hat. I guess it’s true what they say-- that it’s so hard to get noticed in New York City (except of course if you’re an outsized handsome Hound such as myself) that people will do just about anything to stand out—even to the extent of wearing polyester fake animals on their heads. But fortunately for me, bear hats were not designed to fit elegant flat and pointy shaped heads such as mine so this is one further sartorial humiliation that I will be spared.
Now last week Maria’s friend (and my auxiliary human) Elizabeth had the temerity to leave me and sneak off for a winter birthday break to Santa Fe, New Mexico. This was a terrible event, forcing me to take my midday walks with hired help and then return to my actual apartment of residence instead of heading off to nap on Elizabeth’s furniture. And the only thing in my lunch bowl was kibble! Not salmon, or trout or roast chicken or even scrambled eggs. Despicable neglect. Anyway as punishment Elizabeth’s trip back featured cancelled flights, an airline that first couldn’t find a plane and then couldn’t find a flight crew, then flight attendants who announced to the passengers that they should be very grateful to them for showing up (one of whom looked at Elizabeth like she was mainlining heroin when she took a pill) and finally several missed connections. Oh yes, and they lost her luggage. Abandoning a Hound for frivolous recreational reasons is clearly bad karma.
Anyway, the ladies were all keen to surprise me on Saturday with the Wayward One’s return totaling forgetting that you cannot surprise a bloodhound. On our way to meet Elizabeth’s evening 86th street cross town bus after her volunteer shift at the ASPCA I found the spot where she had waited for the bus that morning and refused to move. I mean she had been there once, so there was every chance that she could materialize there again. But obviously I knew she was back and didn’t even need the few seconds for her scent to waft out of the doors of her bus to commence some acoustically robust finding bays (followed by some head buttingly robust demands for fists full of turkey from the treat pouch).
Now there are no adequate means of making restitution for the loss of services during the week but Elizabeth did try. It turns out that instead of exploring Santa Fe’s cultural riches she spent her first day exploring Santa Fe’s canine riches. To wit she found this absolutely gorgeous pet emporium called Teca Tu (http://www.tecatu.com/) where she spent a considerable amount of time perusing the extensive selection of merchandise. And although she longed to buy me a cowboy hat and a serape style coat a la the picture of the owner’s Bernese mountain dog on their website, she remembered how much I appreciated her gifts of haberdashery from Disney World and mercifully forbore. Instead I now have this kick ass southwestern collar shown below which is intended for my Sunday best. Personally I feel it will enhance my macho appeal which is always in need of bolstering owing to the fact that I don’t have a cool macho name like Clint or Buck or Wimsey Ringo. Being named after an effete English aristocrat who is able to tell his Lafittes from his Latours is dispiriting when one really wants to be seen as a rough and tumble Hound who is able to tell his Longhorns from his Limousins. But now, owing to my new collar you can call me Pecos Wimsey “have drool, will fling,” the fastest mouth east of the Mississippi.
And speaking of mouths, having hung out for an inordinate amount of time in Teca Tu imagining me in all manner of western wear, Elizabeth decided that perhaps as she was in culturally significant Santa Fe she should actually visit something other than a pet store. But then on her way to the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum she came across this place! Pooch Pantry (poochpantry.com) turns out to be a new dog bakery and no sooner had Elizabeth entered than she was assailed by the delightful smell of freshly baked peanut butter and pumpkin canine cookies. However, as I am well known to be a Hound of refined palate Elizabeth enlisted the help of the owner’s lovely dog, Roxy, who is similarly selective, to vet the cookies ahead of time. Although the degree of Roxy’s enthusiasm blurred the photo it reassured Elizabeth of the product’s appeal to those of us of the finicky persuasion. And here you see me on Sunday engaged in some cookie tasting of my own. Both my humans were also tickled by the bag the cookies came in. Pooch Pantry’s online store is not yet up and running but owner Daphne Wright is happy to ship. And although the cookies are awesome it still does not make up for Elizabeth’s absence.
But as it turns out, while Elizabeth was absent from me I was not entirely absent from her. In fact she spent so much of her time either shopping for my gifts or wondering how I was doing that she complained to Maria that I had hijacked her vacation. She seemed to sense my presence everywhere:
By the way, it would be remiss of me to let Elizabeth take credit for that fire. The hotel has a fire starting guy to help thermally challenged people from big cities like Elizabeth. At one point the fire went out and Elizabeth couldn’t even get the kindling lit. She was busy texting Maria about the inflammable nature of the logs provided when fire starting guy arrived, lit a single match and, poof, roaring fire. Personally I admire this fire’s attitude.
And of course Elizabeth’s hotel also offered a variety of spa services which makes me think that a Hound Spa would be an excellent idea:
Wimsey’s Hound Spa*
L’Air du Chien Aroma Therapy: luxuriate in relaxing bath water that has previously been used by a fragrant Hound. (Depending on the state of the Hound there may be extra charges for a mud bath). Inhale deeply the primal essence of Hound aimed at connecting you with your ancestral spirits of medieval hunters for whom the essence of Hound represented food on the table, a warm bed at night and an aroma that was delightful in comparison to the existing stench around them.
No Pain No Gain Shiatsu Massage: Our expert Hound practitioners find every painful point on your body and stand, sit or poke at it with the aim of increasing energy flow, improving circulation and increasing your tolerance to pain.
Soothing but Smelly Hound Body Wrap: A team of sleepy Hounds use you as their bed providing soothing heat to tired muscles. (Ear plugs provided gratis). The hot bath you will need afterwards increases the relaxation.
Invigorating Olfactory Treatment: Increase your heart rate and nerve conduction by allowing our extra large and wet nosed Hound practitioners to engage in therapeutic poking, prodding and snuffling of your entire body. The resulting leaping and dancing around also provide extra cardio benefits.
Dances with Hounds Massage: A multi-pawed massage as a team of excited Hounds dance on your back. (Tail whipping extra)
Drool and Liver Facial Extravaganza: Take years off your face with our patented Extreme Facial. First a paste of liver puree is applied to the face, then a team of hungry Hounds are unleashed to lick it off leaving an Ultra Hydrating Masque de Drool. Finally scrubbing the tenaciously sticky stuff off exfoliates the skin creating a healthy pink glow. The residual odor of liver ensures canine companionship throughout the day.
* Management not responsible for missing personal possessions.
Anyway, all is back to normal and we went out on Sunday for our usually lengthy Central Park perambulation, in the course of which I met this lovely lady. A lot more pictures were taken but unfortunately many of them turned out to be shots of the nose up the tush variety that my humans felt would be indelicate for me to use. And then as we passed by the Lasker Skating Rink and there were these mounds of shaved ice! Now that I know there is this mountain of delightful snow I predict some furious future towing in that direction. As it was I had to be forcibly removed from it. But then again forcibly removing me from things is all part of the Wimsey walking experience.
Well it is time to toddle off for some cookies and belly rubs. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. At least for my humans.
Until next time,
4 comments:
Dear Wimsey,
Thanks be to the Flying Spaghetti Monster that Elizabeth is back AND you updated your diary this week. I have found that my mood is tied to whether you've posted your weekly entry. Needless to say, my human found me inconsolable last Friday. We will now proceed to have a much better weekend.
Love,
Miss Kitty
Wimsey, that collar is fantastic - yes, very macho!
Glad both humans are back to be able to better provide all adoration to you.
I think the spa is a great idea. I've tried to tell my humans that drool looks a lot like hair gel...but they just don't seem to get it.
Marmalade once deposited a large goober on a neighbor's head. The humans wiped it off--it was really yuck. You are looking very handsome in your new collar. Your lady friend is sweet too... Glad all is well in Wimsey's world again. Speaking of kibble--I scored a double portion the other night!
Greetings Wimsey!
What was Elizabeth thinking? She should know better than to think she could get away from you! It is only fitting that she returned bearing gifts. I do like the collar. Quite handsome!
Your northern friend,
Gus
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