June 29, 2012
Wimsey here, coming to you from Manhattan's steamy, summery Upper West Side where I am officially posting a GONE FISHING sign for this week. Of course in my case what I fish for are plastic water bottles which. although they are less nutritious than actual fish, are much more plentiful. And when I catch one I like to lie in the dirt under a shady bush and have a good chew whilst my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth stand in the hot sun and admire me. Sometimes this admiration takes the form of complaining about how filthy I am getting or how annoying I am but it's all music to a Hound's ears. I'd get worried if they started admiring me for my obedient and compliant nature. Of course that would be an indication that I should be rushed to the vet as I would not be well at all.
Anyway, this week it's just been too hot to write about anything else other than it being too hot which I don't expect anyone will find especially interesting. And yes, I got a cooling cup of Grom Gelato this week--my humans always enjoy the impact that a giant Hound being delicately spoon fed $6 cups of imported gelato makes on the general public. (We'll probably end up on that Dogs of NY Show one of those days).
And also this week there were assorted cooling coat wars mostly ending in extensive turkey feeding and me charging around like a maniac while trying to outrun it and excrement withholding wars on account of it not being to my taste to poop and pee in undesirable climactic conditions. And then there is my new summer walking style that has assumed the quality of a military operation wherein I dart from shady spot to shady spot as if to avoid capture by the sun.
And of course in the summer it is important to drink a lot of water which means that Elizabeth has to change her shirt frequently because of my propensity to use them as post-hydration napkins. It's probably the reason why she feels that in the summer it is important to drink a lot of gin.
So I hope that everyone enjoys their July 4th holiday and remembers that eternal vigilance is the price of liberty (and the price of Hounds).
Until next time,
Wimsey, a son of liberty (although I frequently get called a son of something else).