Wimsey's Blog: Diary of a Manhattan Bloodhound # 167

Entry #167
May, 7, 2010

Hello Everyone, it’s me Wimsey and I’m BAAACK! Yes, I am once again coming to you from Manhattan’s Upper West Side where the Houndly fun and action are non-stop and my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth are again wishing for a Houndly all stop. But really world peace would be more achievable. As I have discussed in previous posts, being annoying (and destructive too!) is an integral part of the Hound genome which fortunately also contains many linked genes for cuteness, so although humans frequently want to kill us they never do.

But now to a recap the last two week’s events: First there was the Great Computer Disaster, which fortunately I was not a part of but which I wish I had been. Some bright light at McAfee Antivirus sent out an update to subscribers that destroyed certain computers, including Elizabeth’s (do they employ Hounds at McAfee?). This was a master stroke and inflicted mass destruction with absolutely no chewing required.

Anyway, there was much wailing and rending of garments as the injured beast was hauled off to the computer repair shop. But not before a terrified computer engineer had to try to work with me staring at him and making noises-- I was tied to the door to restrain me from disturbing him. I managed to disturb him anyway as he kept throwing me nervous glances and saying “He’s very big.” in a way that I don’t suppose was meant as a compliment. But after many futile efforts to repair the computer he announced that the machine would have to be removed which left Elizabeth devastated and me finally able to explore the forbidden under desk world of dusty wires. But the good news is that all the lovely pictures of me were unharmed and it turns out that massive repairs to a computer are a lot less expensive than even minor repairs to me.

Then right after that happened Elizabeth flew off to Switzerland, she says on business, but I think really to go on a chocolate and cheese eating binge and to get away from me. I intend to write a strong letter to the Swiss government about the irresponsibility of admitting foreign nationals whose presence at home is vital to our national security (I need her to accompany me while I thoroughly inspect people’s shopping bags for important contraband such as foreign liver). I have decided to demand cheese reparations in the form of a statue of me carved entirely from Ementhaler. But then of course it would be too beautiful to eat.

Well no sooner did she get home all jet lagged and smelling like foreign climes then we had a visit from our good friends Ilonka and Paul from Maryland. They recently lost their lady bloodhound, Marmalade, and were badly in need of a bloodhound fix. On this basis I protested that a pre-visit bath would remove much of the Hound experience that they were expecting but I was summarily hustled into Elizabeth’s capacious bathtub anyway.

Months of glorious stink, literally down the drain! I did flood the bathroom and stick my nose in the post bath hummus so all was not a complete loss. And Maria has finally given up spending the GNP of a developing nation on cans of Febreze and went out and bought a reed dispenser having noticed that Elizabeth’s reed dispenser scented apartment smells a bit less like Hound than hers. Of course each of the millions of hairs on my body are also reed dispensers so there is no question about who is going to win this contest. And in Paul and Ilonka’s honor I made an especial effort to acquire some express stink and some judicious rolling in the dirt on Saturday ensured that the effects of my Friday bath were mercifully short lived.

On Sunday the couple arrived and Paul presented us with several bottles of a new ale he created and is shortly going to market in the DC area. It is very tastefully called Baying Hound. It is apparently delicious, although despite my best efforts I was barely able to get any of my tongue into the glass at all. Accordingly, my services as model and spokeshound have been offered. Perhaps with some catchy slogan like “Every house deserves a Baying Hound” (or not) and if you are very lucky (or unlucky depending on your point of view) I will show up to drool on you while you drink it and steal the bottle when you are done.

Well soon after their arrival, Ilonka and Paul were treated to the full Sunday Afternoon in the Park With Wimsey experience. Owing to the unseasonable heat I was caparisoned in my cooling coat (which I always feel somewhat mars the beauty of my black and tan-ness but does have the compensatory benefit of either people yelling at my humans because they think it’s too hot for me to be wearing a coat or else think that I am some type of superhero service dog). Anyway no sooner did we head down the street when who did we see in front of the 20th Precinct but my buddy, Officer Wendt! (the fine officer whose sharp eyes alerted my humans to my abdominal wound following the unprovoked attack by a wheaten several weeks ago). Paul and Ilonka recognized him immediately from his pictures on these pages and new photos were taken of us together. I also obliged him with vigorous concertizing which he always seems to enjoy. It was just the beginning of a wonderful day in the park and in spite of the heat there was much admiring of and fussing over yours truly. I even managed to score a water bottle from Paul.

How could the day get any better you ask? Well in the evening Maria, Paul and Ilonka went out for Dean’s Pizza (my favorite) and brought several slices home for me. And then we met Elizabeth in Riverside Park and walked over to Grom Gelato where Ilonka spoon fed me a cup of vanilla for dessert. It was wonderful to have Paul and Ilonka visit and I am hoping that they visit again very soon or that I get an opportunity to go down and help Paul market his wonderful brew with that excellent name (he is also a talented chef, so he is a very useful friend for a gustatory Hound like myself to have).

And what week would be complete without another expensive visit to the vet’s office! This time it was for another ultrasound to monitor a cyst on my prostate for any signs of infection (there were none). The staff always maintain that I am well behaved but my humans think that given how much money they spend there that they are obligated to say that. I am after all an inveterate collector of expensive, time consuming, inconvenient and clinically minor ailments. And in that vein I have also been booked for an acupuncture session on Tuesday to address a disk problem in my neck. Maria is dubious owing to the fact that she doesn’t see how acupuncture needles are going to get through all my hair and skin folds (let alone the fact that I am not naturally inclined to hang out and allow things like sticking needles in me to be done) but Elizabeth has opined that perhaps the vet is in possession of special Hound piercing needles. Will let you know how it goes next week.

Which brings me to the next exciting event of this week—the harness that the vet suggested has arrived! It is called the freedom harness (I like the name as I am about nothing if not being free) and it is supposedly “no pull” due to a small loop on the ring that causes the nice soft nylon strap to tighten around my ample and well muscled girth in response to pulling. This is supposed to act as a deterrent. Amusing concept that, especially considering that prongs sticking into my neck don’t seem to bother me at all. Anyway the ladies blanched at the thought of using it and Elizabeth carried my prong around for a few days just in case. But my humans made an astonishing discovery—the force exerted by a 130lb Hound who is furiously towing against a prong collar is only slightly less onerous than the force of a 130lb Hound who is towing against a nylon harness. To wit, although I am indeed a more powerful tower in the harness the ladies have actually developed enough upper body strength to cope with the extra force. At least so far.

And then what could be a more perfect an end to the week than me creating yet another crisis. It all started yesterday—a beautiful Spring day here which brought our friend Nancy and her little (but rapidly growing) daughter Alicia to the park. As Paul and Ilonka can attest, I love an entourage, particularly if it contains a small child with a limited appetite. and a big snack pack. Well we had a fine time and Alicia is now very mobile and quite intrigued by me and follows me about (although at a cautious distance as she may be little but not stupid) and giggles when I bay (which I do frequently owing to Nancy’s little Yorkshire Terrier Zorro whose attention I am always trying to attract). Anyway here are some pictures from our lovely afternoon in the park. Please note that both Nancy and Elizabeth failed to consider the wisdom of bending over whilst wearing V-necked T-shirts (and humans think Hounds are dim) and while many will applaud this display of female pulchritude I do attempt to run a G-rated blog (periodic discussions of my magnificent male tackle not withstanding).

All was going well until Alicia declined to finish her ice cream pop and Elizabeth made the helpful suggestion that perhaps I might like to finish it (Central Park ice cream is not of the same quality as Grom Gelato but I felt able to cope with the inferior nature of the goods). Now normally I am a surprisingly dainty eater and like to lick ice cream instead of gulping it, so the idea was that Alicia would hold the stick and I would lick off the ice cream. But of course I also get great satisfaction from doing the unexpected and disrupting the plans of my humans, so I ingested the ice cream in two gulps, stick and all!

This prompted a frantic call to the vet who advised feeding me a lot of pumpkin to coat the stick (I like pumpkin) and observing me for signs of distress (I like being observed). A quick foray was made to Fairway where the only cans of pumpkin they had were the expensive organic kind (naturally) and then Elizabeth spoon fed me pumpkin and turkey leading me to conclude that I should eat sticks more often. When she heard about it Maria envisioned major abdominal surgery and declared that she hated me. She also had her first Hound induced migraine. Clearly her previous Hounds were of an inferior type.

So now 24 hours post stick I am being pumpkined and observed as medically suggested and if my poop is usually the focus of intense discussion and scrutiny the potential emergence of the offending stick has added a new level of excitement to the proceedings. So far I have been consuming and excreting in the normal manner but I am sure the emergence in an uncomplicated manner of the stick will be cause for much celebration. Perhaps a touch of the bubbly would be in order. Or a bottle of Baying Hound.

Until next time,

Wimsey, a Hound with a stick up his rump