November 12, 2010
Hello everyone, at long last it’s me Wimsey, once again coming to you from Manhattan’s Upper West Side where things have been topsy turvy and upside down and for once the disruption did not have much (or at least not directly) to do with me and all the chaos a Hound of my size and active nature normally creates. And due to my cyber absence my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth have had to deal with the many rumors pinging around the world about the reasons for my temporary disappearance from these pages and the Twittersphere:
Rumors about my recent absence
1. I ran away and joined the circus creating Ringling Brother’s first ever “Most Hound” exhibit where visitors can experience the intense schadenfreude that comes with knowing that somebody has to live with me and they don’t. For a brief second in time casual visitors can immerse themselves in the drool the stink and the tail lashing, paw thwacking and muzzle poking experience that is but a brief taste of the joys that I bring to the lives of my humans.
2. I have been seonded by animal welfare officers to serve as Exhibit A on a lecture of what can happen if you don’t research a breed properly.
3. Have been camped out in Central Park in extreme Refusal to Leave mode and it took several weeks for my humans to hire a forklift to extract me.
4. I’m a celebrity so I must be in rehab (snorting dirty underwear is a tough habit to break).
5. I’m still a celebrity so if I am not in rehab I am having some “work done” (my forehead wrinkle could use a little deepening).
Now on this latter point, Gus, the Alaska Bloodhound posed an interesting question about how long it would take a resourceful Hound such as myself to disable an alien ship. I’m guessing first contact would go something like this:
Alien Science Officer: Look Captain we discovered this specimen on that polluted little planet we were just discussing.
Alien Captain: Wow! He’s a lot cuter than all the rest of the inferior life forms that live down there. Is he an intelligent life form do you think?
Alien Science Officer: Well so far he hasn’t said much—his language seems to be a loud tonal one —but he has a very sagacious air about him. Maybe he’s their leader. Certainly everyone was deferring to him.
Captain: Oh look; he seems to want to sit at my feet. Isn’t that sweet. He’s only just come on board and he’s already paying me homage.
Alien Science Officer: And now he’s put his front appendage on your leg—no doubt an offer of friendship and affection. I can see why the life forms on that little planet think so hig
hly of him.
Alien Captain: He seems to be trying to communicate something to me—perhaps if I allow him sit next to me I will figure out what it is. He could be our plans to conqueror the planet.
Alien Science Officer: I like the way he is leaning into you in that comradely like fashion. He seems to really have taken to you Captain.
Alien Captain: Yes. The feeling is mutual. He’s the most adorable life form since those Tribbles we met a few light years ago. I like the ritual donation of bodily fluids he seems so keen on also.
Alien Science Officer: The stuff must be very precious—the humans apparently have it hanging on their walls to admire. Perhaps he would be more comfortable if you sat on the floor. We do want to make him feel welcome. And he looks exceptionally cute sitting in the command chair.
Alien Captain: Good idea. And I mean it’s not like he’s really in charge or anything.
Wimsey: Ahead 32.3 mark 4. Maximum warp.
(Elapsed time 49.8 seconds).
Well you get the idea. But the real reason for my silence has been a confluence of events that have conspired to keep me sadly absent from my friends and fans. First, last month I had an orthopedic consult at NY Vet Specialists where owing to another of my panoply of Wimsey Mystery Diseases, I was ordered to be rested for 4-6 weeks. Now this precluded living with Maria and dragging her up and down five flights of stairs (which is how I probably acquired my mystery ailment in the first place) and moving in with Elizabeth, who not only has elevators but elevator men too. So as much of a hassle as it was to be exiled from home, there was the benefit of terrorizing these guys—no matter how many explanations Elizabeth provided to the contrary, it turns out that they all though I was a pretty fierce character (and not in the fashion sense either). I was finally able to fulfill my fantasy of macho Houndhood that comes with having a sissy name like Wimsey!
And then there was the satisfying fact that Elizabeth is unable to sleep when I am around,
Choose one from column A and on from Column B
Snoring Really loud snoring
Nocturnal slurps of water Nocturnal krunchy kibble snacking
Licking exposed toes Licking exposed hands
Surprise bed checks Loud ear flapping
Face snuffling Vigorous bedding rearrangement
Noxious gas emissions Clickedly clack of nails on hardwood
Rawhide chewing Autofetch with squeaky Meerkat
and Maria can’t sleep I am not, so I was able to put two humans in states of sleep deprivation psychosis. (Elizabeth would try to lull herself to sleep by reading “Eat, Pray, Love” before bed but then would have dreams about a book called Eat, Fart, Snore which did not prove very restful).
Next, Elizabeth developed an inner ear infection which caused her to lurch around like she had made one too many trips to the gin bottle and made taking care of moi even more difficult. But a sick human is an opportunity for exploitation too good to be missed by any proper Hound (nb: unlike regular dogs we do not hang about being supportive and sympathetic in such situations) and the Wimsey Bribe-a-teria was open for business. Sensing physical weakness and the lack of options, any degree of cooperation for walks, etc. required extensive applications of turkey, catapulting my extortion activities to heights not seen since Godfather Part II. And of course listening to Elizabeth whine “I hate you” many times a day was music to my extremely attractive long floppy ears.
And as far as the whole” resting” thing, all I can say it that an orthopedic vet telling you to rest your giant Hound and your ability to actually rest said giant Hound are two entirely different things (especially during Fall frisky season). In the face of my exemplary persuasive abilities, the best Elizabeth was able to do was to try (try being the operative word) to keep each of my walks to no more than an hour apiece.
So, as you can imagine, we were a merry little bunch ( was also migrating her PC to her new Apple just for some added stress) when Maria went and spoiled it all by actually finding a new apartment! It’s around the corner from and is on the ground floor and has a small shared back garden
, which appears filled with all kinds of junk to be explored.
This apartment is even smaller than the last one which does have the huge advantage of meaning that I am always in the way as opposed to frequently in the way. I took to the place immediately. The apartment was also something of a wreck but it is now less of one owing to the heroic efforts of a decorating/painting guy named Josh Dworkis (www.daskamanddworkis.com)- anybody in the NYC that needs help, he has the Wimsey imprimatur of . Tell him I sent you.
So this week the ladies have been rushing backwards and forwards to Bed Bath and Beyond, buying stuff, installing stuff and contemplating even more stuff, to make sure that I have a comfortable place to park myself and my chattels (not always an easy proposition as it turns out that my tush will not fit onto a sofa of standard depth and so an extra deep one is being actively sought).
But I did take time out from all my moving supervisory activities to once again visit my at the posh Carlyle Hotel—it’s a fantastic place, chock a block with Wimsey worshippers and people dedicated to providing the highest level of service to a handsome, East Side aspiring Hound such as myself.
And during my blog holiday I missed commenting on Halloween (in my household there is no question of dressing me up as a human---instead I make my humans consider donning pendulous ears and bulbous noses ) and the New York Marathon (even though the streets were filled with hobbling humans this proved no impediment to their stopping to admire and pet me in a multitude of languages providing evidence of the unifying power of The Hound).
So I think I will stop here for the nonce. There is talk about emptying out some boxes and organizing a closet that I feel requires my urgent attention.
Until next time,
Wimsey, New Place, Same Hound
PS: Elizabeth did get her revenge—she tied me to the soap dispenser and bathed me!