Wimsey;s Blog: Diary of a Manhattan Bloodhound #199

Entry #199

February 4, 2010

Hello Everyone, it’s me, Wimsey coming to you from the Isle of Ice—otherwise known as Manhattan’s Upper West Side where recent storms have converted my beloved snow mounds into a glacial version of crème brulee. It has been a very strange winter around here replete with cold, snow, ice and smelly Hound. Of course the smelly Hound is a year round phenomenon but the frigid conditions have made my human

Maria and her friend Elizabeth reluctant to bathe me and deal with my coat’s refusal to dry (even my body parts are disobedient) and so I have been perfuming the air (and my humans’ wardrobe and furniture) to quite an extraordinary extent. Nevertheless, even though the ice storm has made for some terrific sliding (at least on the part of my humans) I was disappointed that we were not buried in snow like the rest of the country. But then again the winter is not over yet so there is always hope.

I want to thank everyone who sent me suggestions for my stomach—so far things are

going well with the California Natural lamb and rice kibble as long as actual food is added to it to tempt the refined and finicky Wimsey palate. And it has been quite comical to watch my humans’ enthusiasm over the production of fecal matter of the desired form and texture—triumphant phone calls have been made to announce that my poop is rolling down a snow bank and such like. And of course now that my digestion is back on track I have even more energy with which to delight my humans. As I have said many times around here the good new is that I am feeling well and the bad news is that I am feeling well. This means that instead of my afternoons consisting of 80% nap and 20% pestering the proportions are

reversed and I have to be bribed with various toys and chewables to go away. It’s important that humans understand the fundamental concept that nothing is for free—another handy technique stolen from the world of dog trainers.

Well apart from the exciting weather it has been a quiet week here in Wimsey World. The inclement conditions have deterred a lot of people from strolling around in the park so the Wimsey admiration quotient was pretty low this week—which is to say I only got stopped a few times per walk. (Everything is relative). Elizabeth and I did meet a woman from Long Island who has a black and tan lady bloodhound and so was quite excited to meet me.

"They’re such wonderful dogs!” the woman exclaimed causing Elizabeth to scratch her drool spattered head and think that perhaps the woman had one of those rare, mutant Hounds who behave like regular dogs. “Well,” Elizabeth replied, “this one requires an insane amount of exercise, (“yes” concurred the woman) and he drools and flings it on the walls and ceilings (“yes, they do” said the woman) and he doesn’t listen to me at all (“no, not at all” agreed the woman) and he’s stubborn and it’s all about him (“yes, they are like that” smiled the woman) all of which caused Elizabeth to realize that the woman did have a pretty normal Hound, she was just crazy. What can I say; our cuteness negates a multitude of sins. The irony is that if a Hound could have a Hound, he wouldn’t.

And Thursday was the Chinese New Year, 2011 apparently being the year of the rabbit (I always think it is auspicious when the year is one of the edible animals). But I have my own system of zodiac signs:

Wimsey’s Zodiac

The Year of the Hound: People born in the year of the Hound (the most creative of the all the signs) are good looking, manipulative and above all acquisitive. Sometimes it appears as if they acquire things just because they can and they have a tendency to hoard panoply of seemingly useless items. They have an unusual approach to hygiene, preferring mud baths to the usual kind, and believe that a good roll in the hay (or if hay is not available, grass) is essential for good health. They often eat to excess and throw up all over the carpet. They love to be admired and if they are not the center of attention they can get quite vocal. Hobbies include fine dining, dumpster diving, long distance running, gardening, interior design (favoring either minimalist or distressed looks) and singing.

The Year of the Squirrel: People born in the year of the squirrel are fast moving lively fellows, inclined to have thick, bushy hair. They like to live dangerously by taunting those much larger and more powerful than themselves and relying on their superior foot speed to make their escape. They have a somewhat limited palate but usually have a well stocked, overflowing pantry. People born under the sign of the Hound find those of the squirrel persuasion mesmerizing but are seldom able to capture their hearts (or any other part of them). Hobbies include collecting, climbing, gymnastics and teasing.

The Year of the Laundry Bin: People born in the year of the laundry bin are receptive and overflowing with the good things of life. They cherish variety and diversity although they are not overly picky about hygiene. Some people say this is a stain on their an otherwise bountiful character but individuals born under the sign of the Hound find them nonetheless powerfully attractive. Indeed Hound-Laundry Bin attractions are among the most compelling in the universe and they can spend many happy hours in each other’s company when not interrupted by other obligations.

The Year of The Fruitcake: People born under the sign of the fruitcake, one of the weightiest signs of the Hound zodiac, are generally unpopular. People frequently admire their appearance and they are a well-intentioned sign but a little of them goes a long way. Indeed once people have spent time in their presence it is not an experience that they are inclined to repeat, although this does not stop them from introducing fruitcake natives to others. For this reason those born under the sign of the fruitcake can have a wide acquaintance. Unlike most other signs, the ever-tolerant sign of the Hound will thoroughly enjoy the fruitcake’s company, especially if they can catch them alone.

The Year of the Garbage Can: Although it is counter-intuitive, those born under the sign of the garbage can are very popular with certain other signs. They are an intriguing sign that requires an in-depth exploration to get to know well. They epitomize the axiom that you cannot judge a book by it’s cover. The sign of the garbage can has many diverse interests and you never know what you will find when you spend time in their company, although they can sometimes take a little prying to unearth their secrets. Those born under the sign of the Hound find it easy to come under the sway of the garbage can and theses relationships are often immensely satisfying although break ups can be messy.

The Year of the Couch: People born under the year of the couch are large, lazy individuals inclined to let people push them around and do what they want with them. They tend to be slow and heavy and very impressionable but people find them nevertheless comfortable to be around. In particular, those born under the Year of Hound can have a remarkably long-term relationship with those born in the year of the couch, never tiring of their company and being loyal, steadfast companions. Hounds do sometimes like to make a few improvement to the nature of the Couch but the two seem made for each other.

(My zodiac only has six signs because Hounds take up so much room in the rest of the year.)

The other news this week is that the impending Super Bowl. This would be a much more interesting event if Hounds were allowed on the field to steal the ball, chase the competitors and dig hole on the line of scrimmage but all my proposals in this regard have been summarily dismissed. But the event would be endurable with a few amendments to the Super Bowl food menu:

Squirrel guacamole: pureed squirrel, onions and Tabasco garnished with tomatillo sauce and served with crispy liver chips.

Buffalo pigeon wings: served with blue cheese dressing, celery stalks and spiced dipped fried feathers.

Ratay satay: chunks of succulent prime overfed NYC rat in peanut butter dipping sauce.

Chilly chili de facon Wimsey: Chewy, freeze-dried raccoon smothered in a mouth-watering potage of the contents of the kitchen garbage disposal

Vegetarian crudité consisting of heavily urinated upon grass, even more heavily urinated upon shrubs, crunchy acorns, and rotting leaves all accompanied by an assortment of muddy sticks.

Cow pies: a delightful dessert when topped with whipped cream caramel syrup.

Of course all Super Bowl fare should be accompanied by a fine bottle of my beer from Baying Hound Aleworks (assuming that you will not be too distracted by admiring my face on the label to watch the game).

Anyway, I’ll leave it here for now. Hope everyone enjoys watching those hunky guys in tight pants run around; I know my ladies do and they don’t even know who’s playing.

Until next time,

Wimsey, the winter wonderhound