April 28, 2012
Hello Everyone, it’s me, Wimsey New York City and the Upper West Side’s favorite Hound (or not) and I am back from my brief literary hiatus. I am hoping that absence made the heart grow fonder, although where I am concerned there is a surfeit of fondness that is lavished on me by my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth. Except of course when I annoy them past the breaking point and then they hate me. As a conscientious Hound I have a quota of “I hate you’s” that I must elicit from them each day in order to feel completely fulfilled. But there are some days when I permit myself to substitute a quantity of pedestrian terrorizing events engendered by my large size and loud voice but that takes so little effort that, were I not a Hound, I would feel guilty. I never feel guilty and I never apologize for my behavior both of which paradoxically mean that I seldom have to—there is lesson in that for humanity were humans not wedded to the idea that it is their job to teach and ours to learn (or not).
Anyway, clearly my absence has caused me to wax philosophical which is not all that unusual as we Hounds are natural philosophers; and unlike out human counterparts we don’t waste our time posing questions to which we don’t have the answers.
The Great Questions of Life Answered By Wimsey
Who am I? (I am a large, stinky, smelly, mud caked, loud, sheddy, drooly, gassy, cadging, thieving, destructive, obstructive and entitled Hound).
Where did I come from? (Your bed or the couch, whichever one you prefer me not to be on).
Where am I going? (Out.)
What is my purpose? (My purpose is to get exactly what I want when I want it; and if I can make sure no one else gets what they want when they want it then I am even happier).
Why do bad things happen to good people? (They have Hounds).
What is good and evil? (Good are all things that benefit me and evil are all things that prevent me from obtaining the things that benefit me).
Who created the universe? (Clearly someone who loves Hounds since they stacked the deck so much in our favor and created squirrels, flower beds and dirty laundry).
What is knowledge? (Knowledge is knowing that there is a large pot roast cooling on the kitchen counter).
What is Wisdom (Wisdom is waiting until the human has left the kitchen to steal the large pot roast).
What is Justice? (Justice is being told off for eating the large pot roast and as a consequence throwing it all up on the expensive, hard to clean Oriental carpet).
What is Truth? (Truth is whatever I want it to be; I find it’s more convenient that way).
What is Freedom? (Freedom is the ability to act on one’s impulses and to never suffer the consequences because one is so cute).
Is there life after death? (No one knows except that if there are Hounds involved it’s not going to be all that it’s cracked up to be).
What is beauty? (Beauty is what humans see when they look at me).
Well anyway, it’s been a lively two weeks around here, although I don’t remember everything that’s happened because we Hounds have limited short term memory-- except of course when it comes to important things like the location of every pet store, snack shop, gelato stand, horse poop pile and discarded crust of bread on the entire Upper West Side.
But first, I have to announce that it was decided that we won’t be visiting my brewery, Baying Hound Aleworks owing to my ongoing tush issues-I am the dog with the golden tush - (which among other things requires Maria to anoint the royal behind with medication twice a day which she really enjoys) but if you are in the Washington DC area stop by their new beer launch party today April 28th (details at www.baying-hound.com). I will be making a site visit at the earliest opportunity—nothing goes with beer like Hound drool. And speaking of which, Elizabeth discovered the first evidence of my handiwork on her new flat screen and she seemed quite excited by it.
Anyway, weather wise we seem to be going backwards into March instead of forwards into May so there have been only a few days where I got to hang out in my little shared garden (NB: garden decorations courtesy of the occupant of the other apartment) although I did manage to put my head through the cat flap at least once, which Maria thought was exceptionally obtuse of me since the cat was actually in the garden at the time. And in another attempt to try to get to know small animals better I tried to climb into Bethesda Fountain to make the acquaintance of a very attractive duck (not visible in the photo alas) that was taking a dip there.
Other highlights of the week included tractoring Elizabeth at a high rate of speed into Unleashed, one of my favorite pet shops (right past the large sign advertising dog training), where in addition to putting my nose on everything I attempted to swipe a deer antler which incensed Elizabeth as she recently spent a lot of money buying me a large deluxe one that I have declined to chew. But things that I am allowed to have just somehow don’t appeal. Anyway, as usual, Elizabeth tried to purchase something to make up for me being me, but having run out of things to buy decided to get a bag of cookies from the store’s bakery. But the shop refused to charge her for them. It’s nice to be appreciated. It takes a large metropolis to make a demanding, entitled and spoiled Hound even more demanding, entitled and spoiled. But we haven’t been to Furry Paws in a while. I put it on my tow to list.
And also this week some Italian tourists thought I looked thirsty and tried to offer me a container of water but as they discovered I had other plans for the vessel—I was hoping for a cup of gelato.
In other exciting news Elizabeth saw the space shuttle fly past her window as it made its way up the Hudson on the back of a 747. This is nothing short of miraculous, as she seems to have missed a Boeing 737 getting ready to ditch in the Hudson a few years ago. For some reason she seems not to notice things that have nothing to do with dogs.
Also my humans notice nothing that has to do with football and so are oblivious to the fact that draft picks are occurring which a lot of folks find pretty exciting. True, most of them have a Y chromosome but gender is no excuse for ignorance. I think my humans would be more interested if there were a team called the New York Giant Bloodhounds. It would be the only team in the NFL where members of the same team fight for possession of the ball. But football terminology seems to have a lot to do with Hounds anyway:
Wimsey’s Football Glossary
Astroturf: That stuff in an enclosed area of Riverside Park that I am not supposed to be on that I always want to be on.
Backs: The part of a human destroyed by walking energetic Hounds.
Ball carrier: The person with the ball who must be chased and relieved of it (it’s more fun if the ball carrier is a guy trying to play catch with his son).
Beat: What humans frequently want to do to me but can’t because it’s illegal.
Blackout: When I knock over the floor lamp. Again.
Blitz: A play where a Hound seems to come out of nowhere and steal whatever it is you’ve got.
Blocking: An ineffectual maneuver humans use to prevent Hounds from getting at something that they are determined to get at. Blocking makes them feel better because at least they tried.
Bowl Game: The game where humans put stuff into the bowl and Hounds take it out of the bowl.
Bump and run: A common Hound play wherein whatever is in your hand comes out of your hand because you’ve been bumped by a 130lb Hound who then takes off so that you can’t catch him.
Call a play: This happens when humans are trying to work, read, watch TV or talk on the phone and the Hound decides to launch a vigorous attack on his noisiest squeaky toy.
Clipping: A heinous human offense involving attempts to trim Hound talons.
Conferences: Hushed and often tearful conversations between humans discussing the latest triumphs of their Hounds.
Coverage: Preventing the reading of newspapers books, magazines or iPads by the simple expedient of lying across them.
Cut back: What humans have to do in order to be able to afford the latest bills run up by their Hounds.
Dead ball: A formerly intact ball that has been in extensive contact with a Hound.
Down: A meaningless word humans frequently yell at their Hounds.
Down the Field: The way in which a Hound is towing unless his human wants to go up the field.
Draft choice: A pint of anything made by Baying Hound Aleworks.
Drive: What a Hound persistently attempts to do when being chauffeured in an automobile.
Eligible Receiver: An aberrant Hound who is actually entitled to those treats by dint of his following obedience commands. Most Hounds prefer to be ineligible receivers.
Encroachment: Describes the relationship between Hounds and any piece of furniture upon which a human is attempting to sit.
Field goal: Squirrels, rabbits, rats, or raccoons.
First down: The first time a Hound lies down on command. Enjoy it—it will probably also be the last down.
Foul: The smell of a Hound. Especially one who has been rolling in the remains of a deceased rodent.
Fumble: This occurs when the Thanksgiving turkey momentarily drops out of a Hound’s mouth owing to its enormous size.
Goal post: A Hound urinal. Best used when a football game is actually in progress.
Going for it: What Hounds do when they are awake.
Hang time: The amount of time a leaping Hound must be in the air to obtain possession of your sandwich before it enters your mouth.
Holding: What humans struggle to do with the leash of a lively Hound.
Home Game: Chewing the legs off the furniture.
Intentional grounding: What a Hound does in a mud puddle or a compost heap.
Interception: A favorite Hound maneuver that prevents something you’ve got from going where you wanted it to go.
Line of scrimmage: An imaginary line between your Hound and the place you don’t want him to be. Fortunately Hounds don’t believe in imaginary lines.
Live ball: The condition of a ball before it has had extensive contact with a Hound’s mouth.
Man-in motion: A guy whose Hound has a taste for leather wallets.
Out of bounds: A hopeful but ultimately futile human strategy for protecting their possessions.
Pass rush: What happens when a human tries to prevent a Hound from entering the kitchen.
Personal foul: When a Hound decides to rub himself on your clothing.
Play: Something a Hound likes to do on the bed when you are trying to sleep.
Pocket: An area routinely inspected and emptied by Hounds.
Possession: Something that humans who have Hounds can only experience on a temporary basis.
Recovery: The amount of time it takes a Hound who has eaten the remote control to rest until he eats the iPhone.
Sack: (see pocket)
Scrambling: What humans do after their Hound has flung drool on that lady in the ivory colored Chanel suit.
Snap: What happens to the mind of a human who has spent too much time with a Hound.
Single elimination: What a Hound does in inclement weather when his human clearly desires a double elimination.
Spot: The ideal location for elimination. The spot may take a considerable time to locate as many potential spots must be investigated and evaluated before the actual spot is found. NB: Spots change on a daily basis.
Stiff arm: A consequence of walking a Bloodhound.
Super Bowl: The bowl in which meatloaf is being prepared. Other Super Bowls include those in which chicken is marinating and cookie dough is resting.
Winning a Super Bowl can be a long and arduous process but most Hounds feel it is well worth the effort.
Tackling: The process by which humans coming through a door are knocked to the ground in order to smell where they’ve been and to relieve them of any desirable objects or food items.
Territory: Places where a Hound has peed. Territories include such places as homes, neighbor’s homes, the park, the streets, the car, the neighbor’s dog, etc.
Touchback: This occurs when a human has ceased petting. Also known as thwacking.
Touchdown: A more vigorous response to a cessation of petting than the touchback.
Turnover: The method in which a Hound indicates that he desires a belly rub.
Wild Card: The chase that ensues when a Hound has disrupted a peaceful game of solitaire.
Winning percentage: The life of a Hound.
Well you get the idea. Anyway I think I will leave it there for this week. But before I forget, I did get to take a walk with my puppy Pluto this week--although the little fellow turned 11 months on Thursday so I guess I can’t really call him a puppy for very much longer. As usual we had quite a good time, especially when he found a plastic water bottle and I had to chase him to take it away. The hydrocarbons in plastic are very unhealthy for him.
Until next time,
Wimsey, A star tailback