Wimsey's Blog: Diary of a Manhattan Bloodhound #162

Entry #162
March 26, 2010

Hello Everyone. It’s me Wimsey coming to you from Manhattan’s Upper West Side where March Madness has nothing to do with college basketball and everything to do with a wound up Hound.

Of course this odd weather doesn’t help any—rain, shine, spring, a little summer and now some winter. My human Maria and her friend Elizabeth are experiencing wardrobe madness trying to keep up with the seasons and even I have a new light weight rain coat to help me cope. This one has a detachable hood that is way too small (I have a big head in more ways than one) but there is some talk about using it anyway to at least keep my neck dry. This new model is from Ruff Wear and joins my two RuffWear winter coats and my Ruff Wear summer cooling coat. However, given my impressive dimensions and vigorous and splashy mud towing style, nothing short of wrapping me in saran wrap is going to keep me dry (and reduce the pile of wet, black, post walk towels, which if the truth be told is the real point of the raincoat exercise).

But I digress. Now I have nothing against March Madness although Elizabeth hates the fact that the games interfere with one of her favorite TV shows, The Amazing Race. This is a show where teams of two race around the world (in coach, no less, which should qualify them for prize money all on its own) competing for a million dollars in prize money. But I also have an Amazing Race.

Wimsey’s Amazing Race

The Premise: A team of two puny female humans race around New York City in the company of a giant baying Hound hoping to avoid personal injury and lawsuits.

The Roadblock (a task that only one person must perform): These include such things as digging into piles of branches or other assorted dense vegetation to pick up my poop or hanging onto my leash for dear life when I am on the trail of a squirrel, a raccoon, an intact female, a police officer or am just feeling frisky.

The Detour (a choice between two tasks, each with its own pros and cons): This includes such things as being sat upon or spat upon or being shoved off the bed or pushed off the couch or having me eat your food or drool in your food. Pretty much any way you look at it you lose.

The Prize: If you make it through a leg of the race with me you get to do another leg of the race tomorrow! I guess that is why this is not a popular race and explains the paucity of bloodhounds in New York City. (that and the high IQ of New York’s residents).


Anyway, this week was very nice in spite of the vagaries of the weather. Sunday was especially entertaining. First I found this hole in a tree where somebody was storing a stick collection which I promptly removed for inspection and chewing. It was kind of the canine equivalent of finding a pot of gold.


Then we were joined on part of our walk by one of Maria’s colleagues from work who I met when I visited her office. Here I am with Uncle Tony.






(Tony is one of those names that just begs to have an Uncle stuck before it and if Rafael Nadal can have an Uncle Tony, I can too). And not only did Uncle Tony pet me but he also had a water bottle which I was able to relieve him of.






He is thinking of getting a dog to which both of my humans cried out as if one: “Not a Hound!” They thought he might not appreciate having a dog that likes to make free with humans’ food and possessions and who enjoys the loud and unrestrained expression of its many opinions. They also read him some of my poetry.

Wimsey Barrett Browning Sonnet #43

How am I Pesky? Let me count the ways

I am Pesky because when you change your clothes I poke you with my large, cold, wet nose to inhale the intoxicating perfume of your skin and do not desist even when you shriek at me to stop.

I am Pesky because when you want to use the computer I also want to use the computer

I am Pesky because when you eat I insist on sticking my nose in your food

I am Pesky because when you want to read the newspaper I develop an urgent need to shred the newspaper

I am Pesky because when you want to watch TV I like to block the signal from the remote to the cable box (assuming I have not already eaten the remote)

I am Pesky because when you have an important phone conversation I have an important date with a stuffed squeaky toy

I am Pesky because I must stick my head into all bags to minutely inspect and drool upon the contents

I am Pesky because I chew up the recyclables and strew them about the house

I am Pesky because I leave my rawhides lying around so you can trip on them in the dark

I am Pesky because the contents of my food bowl can be found widely distributed around your abode and in painful, surprising and inconvenient places in the bed and on the furniture

I am Pesky because I like to sit on your lap and dance on your abdomen

I am Pesky because I follow you into the bathroom and try to participate in the activities therein

I am Pesky because I always want to walk in the opposite way that you do

I am Pesky because I enjoy being Pesky because you don’t enjoy me being Pesky

How am I Pesky? The ways are actually too numerous to count.

The End


So I don’t think Uncle Tony will be getting a Hound any time soon. To know me is to love me and to not to want to live with me.

And speaking of Hounds, we ran into the basset boys, Guinness and Loogi. Elizabeth wanted to get a photo of all three of us looking into the camera. These pictures are a record of her futile endeavor.









Now let me say that although usually I am quite a loquacious Hound this week was more about expressing myself visually. For instance, here is Noble Hound Montage.







And then here I am “socializing” (read sticking my nose up his butt) with my uber tolerant friend Spencer.







And Spring brings several important changes to Central Park: first it is the beginning of the Dreaded Flowering Tree Season in which my humans exhibit a wholly unfortunate passion for photographing me in front of every flowering tree in the park.





I have an equal passion for turning my head and looking away or just getting up and peeing on the tree. I am told that no one wants to look at those pictures.





Also, the whole Loeb Boat House complex re-opens. This means that in addition to dragging my humans over to the snack shop for tuna sandwiches I also try and get into the lakeside bar and try to rent a rowboat. Sadly I am not permitted either place but this does not stop me from trying anyway.






Well, a short post this week as I have an incipient case of Spring fever. (In addition to short blog posts, this malady also manifests itself by my pooping right in the middle of a cluster of emerging spring flowers to the accompanying shrieks of “No not there Wimsey!” which is all part of the joys of the season).

Until next time,

Wimsey, March’s madness

So you think you can get me off of this bench?