Wimsey's Blog: Diary of a Manhattan Bloodhound #205

Entry # 205

March 18, 2011

Hello Everyone, it’s me Wimsey coming to you from Manhattan’s Upper West Side where there has been much celebrating to do and much work for my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth. Yesterday was St. Patrick’s Day and as is my wont I went over to the parade which is visible from Central Park. Needless to say, I caused quite a stir in my Hibernian Hound finery and there was much picture taking, petting and general admiration of yours truly. Unfortunately Elizabeth’s camera ate the last 36 pictures she took (clearly I am having an influence even on inanimate objects) so the only picture is the one she took from her phone for posting on Twitter.

And owing to all the picture munching a lot of this week’s photos come once again from the new (ish) southern part of Riverside Park that has a rather post industrial Mad Max meets Fire Island feel to it. The park was originally the New York Central railroad yards and the designers elected to leave much of the decaying industrial infrastructure intact as a kind of apocalyptic sculpture and married it with wooden walkways, marsh grasses and interesting places to sit or picnic. I of course like it very much because of the air currents coming directly off the Hudson and the fact that the neighborhood’s considerable dog population leaves abundant evidence of its existence in the manifold of scent trails to be followed. During the winter months it is quite deserted which adds to the eerie feeling that one is in some futuristic movie where everyone has been wiped out except a woman and her large, annoying Hound. Unfortunately I don’t get to spend

much time down there during the summer because the absence of trees, while adding to the Spartan design aesthetic, makes the place seriously uncomfortable for all but the most dedicated tanners (and I always have a surfeit of tan which is especially evident when my humans wear black).

Anyway, on Monday afternoon I was actually left alone again and given the fact that the last time Elizabeth left me alone I ate some of her books, she took precautions. Anything that she was desperately fond of or needed to use she tucked away (in a most unsporting fashion) in her closet. But since she expected me to be destructive, naturally I was not so all her packing and unpacking was just so much wasted effort. Without the element of surprise destruction loses a major part of its appeal, don’t you think? And as a matter of policy I always do the unexpected. —the shrieks are louder that way.

But she was to be forgiven for her absence because she was seeing her lawyer to make provisions for me in her will lest she peg our prematurely. Although Maria is my primary human, Elizabeth likes to contribute to my high maintenance lifestyle so her financial absence would put a serious crimp in my enjoyment of the high life. Probably she spends her money on me because I give her so much joy. Or on second thought maybe she’s just eccentric. Well the lawyer visit led to a discussion of various scenarios that could befall me and the devising of plans to cover all contingencies. So once again I managed to dominate the proceedings of my humans’ lives which is all very satisfactory. But what is more satisfactory is that, although as a beneficiary of Elizabeth’s will I cannot be a witness, I am to be present at the signing. I’ve never actually eaten a will before but perhaps I will be permitted a small taste (say the unimportant bits which don’t have to do with me).

And tomorrow is my birthday which is always cause for the intensification of Wimsey Worship. As ever, our own brand of March Madness occurs around here as my humans scratch their heads for ideas of what they could possibly do for me that they don’t already do (I understand that a package is on its way from my grandmother and I am betting there will some of my favorite cookies ((the human kind)) involved). Since my humans lack imagination tomorrow’s table de hôte will include a cup of Grom Gelato and several slices of Dean’s pizza and no doubt much walking and scratching of me. But of course every day includes much walking and scratching of me.

I wish I could report that there were a lot of famous people who were born on March 19 but really there is pretty much Glenn Close (we both have a taste for stewed rabbit) Bruce Willis (he blows things up I chew things up) and Wyatt Earp (we both enforce the law). However, I guess the March 19^th prize would have to go to explorer David Livingstone who said, “I am prepared to go anywhere provided it be forward”. Of course I will actually go backwards as long as my humans want to go forwards but then that becomes the new forward.

But here in honor of the real March Madness for you college basketball fans, is my interpretation of various terms of the game:

Alive: an object is said to be alive when I have it in my mouth and you want it.

Dead: an object is said to be dead when either 1) I have destroyed it—preferably whilst you are watching—or 2) you have lost interest in it and therefore I have too (generally accompanied by the phrase “oh let him have it”)

Alternating possession rule: I let you have something I have stolen lulling you into a false sense of security so I can relive the excitement of stealing it again.

Assist: This is a helpful activity in which I frequently engage, particularly when you are trying to cook or use the toilet.

Bank shot: this is what I do to my favorite wall at TD bank.

Ball handler: this is the human who has removed a ball from my juicy flews. They quickly become the ball unhandler and go in search of a towel.

Beat the defender: this is a play whereby whatever it is you don’t want me to have (i.e. the Sunday roast cooling on the counter) I get.

Blocking: This is a popular maneuver I employ when you are trying to watch TV, use the remote control or view the computer screen

Boosters: These are people on the street who encourage whatever behavior I exhibit that most embarrasses you.

Charging: a rapid-fire maneuver that gets me where I want to go and where you don’t want to go.

Crossover Dribble: This is when the contents of my mouth end up on you, your clothes, your possessions, your walls and unsuspecting passersby.

Defense: A strategy that ensures that what was yours and is now mine, stays mine.

Double Team: This is when one Hound distracts you with potentially bad behavior whilst a second Hound engages in actually bad behavior.

Dream Team: The Hound Group (also known as the Nightmare Team depending on your point of view)

Dribble series: this occurs when while you are occupied cleaning your hands and you have left your hair and clothes wide open to be slimed.

Drive to the basket: A forceful maneuver to acquire yesterday’s dirty underwear.

Elbowing: this describes the magnetic attraction between a lap sitting Hound’s elbow and your internal organs.

Established position: The couch

Fast break: a fine maneuver whereby a casually strolling Hound suddenly and decisively acts to remove your lunch from your plate.

Field Goal: A hell bent for leather Hound who spots a squirrel across a field. Scoring occurs by capturing the squirrel (a rare occurrence) or by pulling you over into the mud (a not so rare occurrence)

Flagrant Foul: the product of a Hound’s intestinal apparatus after one piece of cheese too many.

Personal foul: same as above but conducted while sleeping in the bed with you.

Floor violation: This occurs when you go flying in the middle of the night because I have positioned myself between your bed and the bathroom.

4 point play: A body slam followed by stealing and then eating an illicit substance with ensuing intestinal consequences.

Free Agent: another name for a Hound

Full court press: A Hound approaching a heavily laden Thanksgiving Day Table

Guarding: another variation of “what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is mine”

High percentage shot: A toddler with an ice cream cone.

Inside shooting: an accident involving the leg of your antique table (if you’re lucky) or the leg of your antique guest (if you’re not).

Jump Ball: Both you and a Hound aspire to the same sandwich at the same time.

Keep Away Game: A favorite Houndly sport whereby we taunt out humans with our ill gotten gains knowing that they haven’t a hope in hell of recovering whatever it is that we’ve stolen.

Layup: (also called a lay down) a situation whereby a Hound has pinned a human to the couch and refuses to budge until he is scratched.

Low post: mail that has inadvertently been left on the floor for the Hound’s culinary pleasure.

Man-to- man defense (or woman to woman defense): the situation that arises when two humans argue about who is at fault for leaving the Hound unattended long enough for him to have eaten the couch.

March Madness: my humans trying to figure out what to do for my birthday.

Off the dribble: a Hound with impaired salivary glands.

Offense: A Hound who consistently refuses to bathe.

Out of Bounds: a concept that is alien to Hounds that certain activities are not permitted

Over the limit: the all too frequent situation that results from the confluence of a Hound, a human and a gin bottle.

Overtime: the working hours of a human who has a Hound to support.

Perimeter: The place in the yard marked by the fence that must be breached.

Picked off: describes what humans attempt to do to all the miscellaneous hair and vegetable matter sticking to their clothing.

Pick up games: Trying to vacuum whilst a Hound tries to slay the offending dirt sucker.

Playmaker: My activities involving loud squeaky toys that urgently call for my attention when you are on the phone or trying to sleep.

Possession: 10/10 of the Law of the Hound.

Rebound: when the ball that I demand that you throw for me bounces off the wall and smashes your favorite lamp.

Receiver: A Hound. We are in receipt of all things except a knowledge of obedience commands.

Rookie: A young Hound who has not yet learned that he can do anything he wants because he is very cute.

Slam dunk: The satisfying sound of a large Hound head diving into the toilet bowl whose lid has been conveniently left up.

Swing Man: the Hound who has become adept at moving forward and then suddenly swinging his large rump into the path of an oncoming human causing said human to trip over him.

Timeout: A period of time when a Hound is exiled to his crate so his humans can clean up or repair the damage of the day.

Traveling: the natural condition of the Hound who must be in motion for the better part of the day otherwise you will have many fewer possessions than you currently have.

Turnover: The manner in which a Hound informs his humans that it is time to rub his belly.

Zone defense: A maneuver in which a Hound seems to miraculously read the mind of his humans to determine on which piece of furniture they care to sit and then sequentially occupies all of them.

Well I think those rules sound a lot better than the ones that currently exist proving that even March Madness has a houndish component. Sadly I could find nothing that describes my March propensity to seek out and poop in the middle of the growing clumps of flowers that appear to be sprouting everywhere. In addition to finding poop hard to scrape off flowers my humans feel that poop somehow ruins the aesthetics of the blooms and so one of our best loved spring battles has been joined.

Anyway, I think I will leave you here for now. Hope you all find many spring gardens to fertilize.

Until next time,

Wimsey, Mad as a March Hound