Wimsey's Blog: Diary of a Manhattan Bloodhound #225

Entry #225

August 19, 2011

Hello Everyone, it’s me, Wimsey, coming to you from my Hound Kingdom on the Hudson, otherwise known as Manhattan’s Upper West Side where a reprieve from the heat means that I am once again out and about in Central Park, meeting and greeting New York’s many visitors. And although my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth are happy that I am feeling better after being diagnosed with a urinary tract infection they are not necessarily happy with the behavioral results of my feeling better. It’s all, “the good news is that Wimsey’s feeling better” and “the bad news is that Wimsey’s feeling better.”

So in addition to the usual, mundane dragging, baying and drool flinging, I have now decided that it is imperative that both my humans accompany me to the park for my midday walk so as to most effectively monopolize both their afternoons. If Maria should have the temerity to try to walk me without Elizabeth I simply point myself in the direction of Elizabeth’s apartment and commence tractoring operations. Alternatively if the weather is too hot for this I lay down on the sidewalk with my nose pointing in the direction from which Elizabeth should be meeting us and refuse to move. If Maria does succeed in getting me to walk in the direction of Central Park I insist on doing it with my my head pointing backwards while I emit pathetic little squeaks.

At the end of the day, it is just easier for Elizabeth to abandon all hope of getting anything done in the afternoon and spend the time watching me disport myself in the park. And I am pretty pleased because it is not all that easy to add a new, obnoxious behavior to a repertoire already bursting at the seams with them. Nevertheless, I believe that it is important to continue to acquire new skills throughout one’s life.

And I am not even counting the massive expansion of my cookie behavior. This started innocuously enough with me poking Elizabeth’s cookie pouch during a walk and staring fixedly at her (making what henceforth became known as the cookie face), which initially was deemed quite cute and exceptionally intelligent for an obtuse-seeming Hound such as myself. It then expanded to include me walking crab-wise in front of my humans (threatening to trip them) whenever I wished to be fed a cookie. And somehow I found that I wished to be fed a cookie quite a lot. It is immensely pleasant to be dragging a human down the street whilst munching a cookie and observing the passing urban scene.

Anyway, I have now combined my cooking cadging behavior with my refusing to leave the park cement lawn ornament behavior, creating another splendid addition to my human-bedeviling behavioral repertoire. Now when it is time to leave the park (I don’t believe it is ever time to leave the park!) I walk along at the pace of a snail that has eaten a surfeit of grass and I lie down every few feet and refuse to move. Tugging at 125lbs of dead weight is 1) futile 2) results in me rolling onto my back and roaching and 3) causes passersby to make nasty comments about abusive humans. So guess what my humans have to do to get me to move? That’s right—they feed me a cookie! And guess what happens twenty feet later? That’s right—I turn into a cement lawn ornament again! So it was not only the display of a new skill that had its premiere this week but also the masterful combining of two old ones to form a new and delightful third.

And just to make matters a tad bit worse, one of Elizabeth’s kind neighbors donated a bag of large cookies that the pet store had given her as a freebee (she has miniature dachshunds) and here I am about to enjoy one as a reward for moving forward a few feet. They are even my preferred brand—Old Mother Hubbard. But even a large cookie was insufficient incentive to get me to move away from this waffle truck. To repeat my Facebook posting—Newton’s Fourth Law states that a Hound not in motion in front of a waffle truck will tend to

remain not in motion in front of a waffle truck unless a large piece of turkey is produced. I hate to repeat myself, but I am a big fan of Sir Isaac’s and never miss an opportunity to supply a practical demonstration of his laws. (In any case, I suspect that there is an arti$anal waffle in my future. I wonder if my humans would mind topping it with Grom Gelato?).

As it happens, my waffle truck strike occurred just after Elizabeth

misguidedly tried to have lunch—she didn’t have time to eat at home (I wonder why) so she purchased a tuna sandwich (my favorite!) and attempted to eat it on her own. She was unsuccessful. (She was complaining that her new her jeans are too tight so she should really thank me for my calorie reduction activities). I did also lie down and refuse to move in front of Le Pain Quotidien in Central Park (excellent chicken sandwich)

whereupon a lunching French woman came over to admire me. She asked my humans if I was always so docile. I am a Hound. It’s my special talent to look well behaved even while being the opposite of well behaved.

But summer is winding down so it is time once again to take a look at some popular summer movies that I think could have been substantially improved:

Wimsey Bloodhound and the Deathly Pillows: Wimsey, a heroic and magnificent bloodhound becomes concerned that the plethora of pillows that his human keeps on her bed will suffocate her and she will no longer be around to rub his belly, prepare his meals, spend all her free time (and some that isn’t) with him in the park and pawn her possessions to pay his vet bills. So demonstrating the courage for which he is justly famous, Wimsey throws himself on top of them and (after a brief nap) eats them.

Transformers 3: An exciting action flick just like Transformers 1 where we see interior decorating Hounds transform an entire living room suite into a pile of attractive swatches and the antique Persian rug into a toilet and Transformers 2 in which a team of fashion conscious Hounds transform winter gloves into golf gloves, pumps into peep toes and mules, trousers into shorts, shirts into vests, hats into headbands and panties into thongs. In this latest sequel the Hounds transform an expensively landscaped garden into a replica of the moon in order to help a child with a science project.

Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Hounds: Captain Wimsey Sparrow is appalled to learn that someone is impersonating him and even more appalled to learn that it is a Golden Retriever. The impersonation ultimately fails when it become apparent that the impersonator does not even know how to ransom a pair of Jimmy Choos for a sirloin steak and worse, drops things on command. Having foiled the impersonator Captain Wimsey heads off with his band of assorted horrible Hounds to find the Fountain of Youth. They succeed in finding it and instead of being terrorized by a band of horrible Hounds, the Caribbean is now terrorized by something much worse—a band of horrible Hound puppies.

Cars 2: Having enjoyed last year’s car trip to Michigan, star Hound, Lightening McWimsey, decides to try to encourage a sequel by surprising strangers by climbing into their cars.

Thor: Thor, a mighty but arrogant warrior with a kick ass body that is displayed pleasingly and to great advantage, is cast out of the kingdom of Asgard by his father and sent to live among humans to learn humility. This doesn’t work because the planet has women and also because he is quickly signed to do an Abercrombie and Fitch ad. Fortunately one of the ladies he meets has a Hound He returns home a changed and very humble and humiliated super hero. He brings a Hound with him but suggests to his father that they change the name of their fantastic realm to Assguard on account of the Hound’s goosing propensities.

Captain America: During a top secret World War II experiment, sickly Steve Rogers is transformed into the super powerful Captain America. He is called upon to hunt an evil Nazi agent, imaginatively named Johann Schmidt (John Smith). Rogers enlists the aid of Captain Wimsey and his super olfactory powers, but Wimsey is distracted by the smell of bratwurst and leads Rogers to Captain Klink instead. This enables many more exciting episodes and profitable sequels.

Super 8: A film about a group of high school students who make a movie that appears to be about extraterrestrial super powers but really turns out to be about a bloodhound, a basset hound, a beagle, a coonhound, a dachshund, a greyhound, a ridgeback and a fox hound. Hopes that they will all fly off in a spaceship and stop wrecking the town proves fruitless.

Cowboys and Aliens and Hounds: Aliens invade cowboy territory. Cowboys get rid of aliens. Hounds invade cowboy territory. Cowboys can’t get rid of Hounds.

Rise of the Hounds: A prequel to the horror movie, Planet of the Hounds which shows how the well intentioned introduction of just a few Hounds leads to humanity running around in ragged clothing, having empty refrigerators and being forced to sleep on the floor because Hounds occupied (or ate) the beds. Humans blame it on a retrovirus but the Hounds blame it on good breeding.

Hangover 2: Elizabeth has to spend another week with Wimsey. (Film sponsored by Tanqueray).

Well let’s see what else happened this week. Oh yes, I paid a visit to the New York Cat Hospital yesterday to see an old friend of ours, Dr. Julie Horton, who used to be a vet at the ASPCA. She scratched me behind the ears and palpated my abdomen. But as I was manifestly not a cat (however much I tried to pretend otherwise) and therefore not at the hospital in an official capacity I was spared the traditional veterinary finger up the bum. (I have fond memories of Dr. Horton’s attendance at Thanksgiving at Elizabeth’s—I climbed onto her whilst she was trying to drink a caipirinha causing much encouraging laughing and squealing and caipirinha flying owing to the fact that I am very big and she is very small).

I did have to be restrained, however, from trying to inhale a lounging cat who did not seem pleased to see me and when I tried to make my way into the ward to get to know the other cats better my humans decided it was time to leave. They were at least thankful that I did not bay, but that is a pleasure I reserve exclusively for the neighbor’s cat.

Well I think that is all for this week. I have been informed that I will be bathed yet again in the near future because I have somehow managed to reacquire a big stink in a short time. It might be a record. Probably all that roaching in the mud, dirt and grass but perhaps if my humans wouldn’t try to get me out of the park so much I wouldn’t roach so much. So it’s their fault. Most things are.

Until next time,

Wimsey, abducted by aliens and given special powers or just a Hound?