Wimsey's Blog: Diary of a Manhattan Bloodhound #298

 

Entry  #298

March 15, 2013

Hello Everyone, it’s me, Wimsey, coming to you from the green and still wintry precincts of Manhattan’s Upper West Side where we are to have not one but two days of St. Patrick’s Day this year.  The parade will be held Saturday since the holiday itself falls on a Sunday and this means that there will two days when folks on the street will be in a “festive” (read pixilated) state of mind.  But this also means that everyone will be in a very friendly state of mind which is fortunate since drool stains and black and tan fur make a striking fashion statement when combined with green clothes.

 

As usual I will be out and about with my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth wearing my sequined green cravat which will last about 1 minute around my neck before I decide to pull it off and try to eat it. And yes, I know my heritage is French, not Irish, but everyone is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day in New York City (at least the bartenders hope so), even me.  However I still wish my humans would exchange my cravat for a “Kiss Me I’m Irish button.” It would complement all those “Drool on Me I’m Human” buttons that only I seem to be able to see.

 

And as many of you will have noticed it is the Ides of March, the day when Julius Cesar’s BFF Brutus stabbed him in the back.  I can relate.  How many times have I heard “Here Wimsey, have a nice piece of turkey” and then wham! Betrayal and a bath. But the take home lesson of the Ides of March is that when someone knowledgeable (like a soothsayer or my humans) warns you about something you should take heed.  And whereas a bloodhound is unlikely to stab you in the back (shoving you in the back being more of our thing, particularly when you are taking up too much ((or any)) space in the bed) you should certainly take heed when those accompanied by one advises you of the consequences of acquiring one. And “But he’s so cute” is no excuse.  So was Brutus.

 

Anyway, it’s been rather chilly around here but this did not deter our friends Jennifer and Kelly from Tampa and two of their friends from visiting with me on Sunday.  Of course getting me to look anywhere but at the basket holding a plastic bottle was an exercise in futility as was trying to prevent me from walking in front of the bicycle in order to get a better view of it. My operative principle is that if I stare at something long enough it will end up in my mouth. But since Jennifer also lives with a bloodhound nothing I do is really (too) surprising, unlike the elevator guys in Elizabeth’s building who try to get me to bay at them on command baying when people want you to bay is antithetical to the Bloodhound Way.  It’s much more satisfying to sneak up behind people and scare the crap out of them when they least expect it.

Occasions When it is Appropriate to Bay

During the national anthem at dog shows

In the ring at dog shows

When the judge is examining you at dog shows

Pretty much any time at dog shows (except when your humans want to show off your fine voice)

Early in the morning when you meet your friend Pluto and need to let the neighborhood know about it

When you are exiting you apartment and wish to alert the neighbors to your impending walk

When you see a child holding something desirable, like an ice cream cone

When you see an adult holding something desirable like an ice cream cone

When you see a dog that is less than a tenth of your size

When the traffic light at the street that you are trying to cross is anything but green

When you get bored because your humans have halted your walk for 30 seconds to say hello to someone or to pick up your poop

When you see someone you know

When you see someone you don’t know but wish to get to know

When these people that you wish to get to know are trying to do something other than trying to get to know you

When your humans try to take you into a hushed church for the Blessing of the Animals 

When no one wants you to bay

 

And in addition to the Ides of March and St. Patrick’s Day, March Madness continues with the 19^th being my birthday.  This means that a new supply of bully sticks has arrived from bestbullysticks.com (which I will make a mess chewing on the furniture where I am not supposed to chew them) and that a new snack assortment has arrived from chewy.com.  The selecting of my snacks is of such supreme importance that my humans read through 42 pages of snack items to choose the ones that they believe will best appeal to the finely honed Wimsey palate.  But keeping track of my taste in snacks is a moving target.  I dragged Elizabeth to Unleashed (in the pouring rain) this week and as soon as she informed the clerk that I liked their biscotti I spat it out in favor of a ginger snap.  Making my humans look like idiots and contradicting them is one of the great joys of my life and an essential duty for all Hounds.

 

My humans grade my snacks and place them into one of four categories:

1.  Will not eat: This doesn’t mean that I haven’t eaten these in the past.  Many a formerly favorite cookie has come flying out of my mouth causing consternation and bewilderment to my humans.

2. Will eat if in the mood: These are consumed with a notable lack of enthusiasm and periodically rejected to see if something better appears.

 

3.  Likes: These I definitely will eat.  The downside of me definitely liking a snack is the amount of time that I will spend on a walk demanding that snack.  (I generally like to be fed snacks at random intervals during a walk and make this known by stopping and staring at the treat pouch, poking the treat pouch with my snout or dancing sideways in front of the treat pouch and tripping my humans.  (If both my humans are walking me I prefer that the human not holding my leash be in charge of feeding me snacks).

4. Loves: These are snacks that are so desirable that the carrying of them is inimical to walking, eliminating or doing anything else except eating them.  Category 4 snacks thus become Door Snacks. Door Snacks are special snacks that I demand before I walk out the door.  They are in contrast to Leashing Up Snacks which are category 3 snacks.

 

My humans can hardly wait for me to evaluate their latest treating efforts—they may need to construct a spreadsheet to keep track of them all.

And speaking of efforts, as many of you know, I spend a considerable amount of time (and my humans a considerable amount of money) at the vet’s so it occurred to me to compile my vet’s silliest suggestions so far:

Silly Vet Suggestions

1.  Put 5 drops in his ear 3 times a day.

2. Clean him before he pees and collect a mid stream urine sample

3.  Put him in a sweatshirt

4.  Put a sock on his leg

5. Ask him to lie on his left side so I can examine him

6.  Cut his nails

7.  Soak his paw for 10 minutes twice a day in warm Novasan solution

8.  Lift his tail and smear this ointment underneath

9. Keep his walks under 10 minutes

10. Sprinkle this powder on his food—he’ll like the taste

11.  Feed him this chewable tablet—he’ll like the taste

12.  Wash his paws with warm water when he comes in from a walk

13.  Leave this medicated shampoo on for 10 minutes before rinsing

14.  Put a warm compress on (pick a body part) 3 times a day

15.  Let’s get him up on the scale

Nevertheless, the vet staff insists that I am a model patient.  That’s probably because they don’t have to do all this stuff to me.

Anyway, I think I will leave it there for this week.  I am to have some Dean’s pizza tomorrow as part of the ongoing celebration of my birthday and the stinky splendor that is me (there is an Ugly Rumor going around that I am getting a bath for Easter—just in time for the April mud rolling season!)

Until next time, 

Wimsey, The wearin’ o’ the green meets the flingin’ o’ the drool