Entry#309
June 21, 2013
Hello everyone, Wimsey here, coming to you briefly from
Manhattan’s Upper West Side to update you on all my doings. I know how sad it is for everyone when I miss
a blog post and no one can read about my weekly activities—I would be sad too
if I didn’t k now all about me either. My
human Maria and her friend Elizabeth have been very busy with work and as a consequence
my outings and my access to the computer have been sadly limited. So it’s their fault. It usually is.
But humans are a funny lot. This week one of our Facebook
friends posted about how she hated selfish and self-centered people. The irony is that she has a house full of
bassets and bloodhounds. And as anyone who has ever gotten within baying
distance of a Hound knows, we pretty much lead the league in being selfish and
self-centered. Also stubborn and entitled.
But we are very cute. And being
selfish and self centered is all part of the charm of Hounds or so my humans
tells themselves when I monopolize the couch or plop by generous posterior in
their laps because scratching me is more important than whatever else they were
trying to do at the time.
So for those of you who missed me, here is a little montage
to tide you over until things return to normal:
This is me lying in the ivy patch in my shared back yard. Our neighbor is moving out at the end of June
and I am eagerly awaiting the look on the new tenant’s face when they realize
that they must share the space with a massive, olfactorily interrogative
Hound. And space is probably not the
only thing that they will be sharing with me if they enjoy al fresco dining.
Here I am in a familiar posture—sitting down and refusing to
move until I am fed snacks. And speaking of snacks, I have been asked by
Chewy.com to review Orijen’s line of freeze-dried treats. I selected Tundra—venison,
elk liver, elk, venison liver, quail and steelhead trout. Can you imagine anything more delicious or
more worth parking my posterior for? The
treats are conveniently bite sized so my humans don’t have to break them into
the delicate pieces that I require for my hand feeding activities. And they are
highly portable so a substantial amount can be conveniently carried around by
them in their treat pouches. Given the
choice of walking around in the hot sun or sitting under a tree and refusing to
move until I am fed Tundra treats you don’t have to have an extensive
acquaintance with Hounds to know what I choose to do. And what my humans choose
to do is to use a lot of bad words. As a
consequence of this (and also of me spitting out any other treat that is not a
Tundra treat,) the Tundra treats have been promoted to door snacks—those high
value ones that my humans use to lure me from whatever comfortable place on
which I happened to be sprawled to the door for leashing activities.
And in other snack news, my new giant box of assorted, carefully
curated new snacks has arrived from Chewy!
A few bags are old favorites (which have, a tendency to become new spit
outs) but most of them are new and my humans look forward to anxiously
presenting them to me to see whether I will 1) refuse to eat them 2) taste them
but then spit them out 3) eat them grudgingly after I have ascertained that
there is nothing better available or 4) sit down and refuse to move unless fed
them. Being me is so much fun. For my
humans, not so much.
This is me in Central Park.
The famous Bow Bridge is in the background. Also in the background are
people having picnics. Or trying to.
And here I am in Central Park at a dead stop. We are heading
towards the park exit. Notice the attentive look on my face—extorting park
exiting turkey calls for the utmost concentration.
Here is a shot of a rainy day in Central Park. In the background is Bethesda Fountain, but
more importantly, in the background is The Lake. The Lake that has The Ducks.
And The Geese. In the foreground is The
Hound who wishes to drag his human down The Stairs to “visit” The Ducks and The
Geese.
We had some heavy rain that week and I discovered that if I
poop in a puddle my humans can’t pick it up. And my humans discovered that a
dog that takes an hour in the pouring rain to find a spot to poop is a dog whose
care requires frequent trips to the liquor cabinet.
And even in inclement weather, the wedding must go on!
Especially one aided and abetted and crashed by a handsome Hound in a red raincoat
who festively flings drool instead of rice.
Here I am visiting the field adjacent to the dog run. I like
to stop by in the evening and socialize with friends who are usually in
attendance. Between all the socializing,
snacking and hanging out, who has time to pee?
Isn’t this a lovely shot? The Lake in the background, the
cityscape beyond and a Giant Hound who is just about to roll in the soaking wet
grass in his nice, dry red raincoat.
And what Wimsey Montage would be complete without a picture
of me about to drag a human into Unleashed, a Hound shop-a-holic’s paradise
where no one gets upset with anything I do because the Customer is always
right. And Elizabeth always has a wallet.
Finally, here I am in the park with Pluto. He stayed with
Elizabeth last weekend and every day this week I have been sticking my nose into
the orange fleece that he likes to sleep on and inhaling deeply. Then I run and check my toy pile to make sure
nothing is missing. Trust but verify.
Pluto is very much a mini-me. He likes to stop dead on the street and make
Elizabeth guess which way he wants to go.
Only when she gets the direction correct, does he move. And whereas I like to drag Elizabeth around
on a tour of the neighborhood pet shops, Pluto likes to drag Elizabeth around
on a tour of the neighborhood banks. And then he sits on her, just like I
do. Only she doesn’t scream like she
does when I do.
Also this week I dropped by the vet’s for some routine blood
work—I managed to slime him and gas him at the same time. I like to get my money’s worth.
Well I think I will leave it there for this week. Happy Solstice! And check out the July 3rd-5th 2 year anniversary celebration at my brewery, Baying Hound Aleworks (www.bayinghoundales.com). A shameless plug but I am a shameless Hound.
Until next time,
2 comments:
I love you, Wimsey. You could be the twin brother of our late bloodhound, Biskit. You make me smile A LOT!
Sounds like you are doing well. I like how you are so particular about treats. I do the same thing and make my humans crazy too!
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