Entry #317
September 6, 2013
Hello Everyone, Wimsey here coming to you from Manhattan’s
Upper West Side where the fall weather can’t come quickly enough for this heat
hating Hound. As mentioned in my previous
post, my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth have been very busy with work
related projects. I did not get to spend
any additional nights over at Elizabeth’s during August but will be doing so at
the end of September when Maria goes away on business for a few days. We are all very much looking forward to this,
and when I say “all” I mean me. Elizabeth is preparing for two days of trying
to sleep over my snoring and gaseous emissions and Maria is looking forward to
the guilt-inducing texts and emails describing it all in graphic detail and Elizabeth
demanding to know when she is coming home to retrieve her Hound.
But in spite of my humans being preoccupied with work they
found time to purchase me a new door snack—duck hearts from the Columbus Avenue
farmer’s market. I have become
increasingly fussy about my snacks as of late and Elizabeth’s apartment is
cluttered with partially consumed bags of snacks that I deigned to eat for a
while until culinary boredom set in. So
finding a door snack that will cause me to fly off the futon and over to the
door for my after work walk has been a high priority. My humans, fearing that I might become tired
of my beloved ostrich meat strips launched into duck heart territory last week.
I love these duck hearts but Elizabeth discovered that, in
spite of me having a gigantic mouth and duck hearts being relatively small, I
require that she slice them up for me into dainty pieces before I will consume
them. Failure to do so results in me spitting out the duck heart on the Oriental
rug and staring at her until she presents it to me in an acceptable form. Unfortunately
Elizabeth has way too much anatomical knowledge not to know into which bits she
is slicing which causes the experience to be all the more revolting for her and
delicious for me. And once I have been
leashed up and hand fed one of these delectable cardiac bits I demand another
one, which causes a considerable amount of negotiation before a walk can
actually be achieved.
And in other news, last Saturday I spent a wonderful
afternoon at the vet’s—there is so much of me to inspect and discuss that 90
minutes barely scratched the surface as it had been weeks since I had last
visited. First up was a thorough (and I
do mean thorough—you gentlemen out there will know what I am talking about) exploration
of my tushly nether regions to determine if I was once again having anal gland
issues. The vet could find nothing amiss
(and trust me it wasn’t for want of trying—my anal glands built an addition to
his house) which meant that whatever was in there is no longer in there and is
instead all over my humans’ carpets.
Attention then turned to my persistently gunky right ear
which has defeated even Elizabeth’s three times a week ear cleaning regimen. The gunk was cultured to see if I am growing
anything unusual in there as my ear canals have a long and storied history of growing
rare and exotic organisms that require rare and expensive antibiotics. No word back on that yet, but my humans were
given ointment that is to be applied twice a day—once when Elizabeth comes to
pick me up and when I sit nicely and let her anoint the royal auricular orifice
and once in the evening when Maria tries to do it and I don’t sit nicely or
otherwise at all, and transform myself into Wimsey, the hell no Hound. If Maria
has made the mistake of opening the back door, I am out into the yard the
second her hand reaches for the ointment.
Maria finds this all somewhat aggravating if the language that she uses
is any indication. Elizabeth is the
only one that I permit to deal with my medical issues--- the fact that
medicating me is so inconvenient for her makes her so much more qualified.
Then we advanced to my back—I have a couple of fused
vertebrae that the vet believes requires some additional pain medication. So far I have been through tramadol (causes
me to conk out into a lovely and highly immobile million hour nap), gabapentin
(which does nothing) and amantadine (which causes a degree of gastrointestinal
disturbance that is inconsistent with my humans’ ability to breathe, let alone
to scoop the resulting poop). I was particularly disappointed in the fact that
this latter medication upset my tummy as its exorbitant price was right in my
wheelhouse.
Anyway, the latest idea is to give me tiny amounts of
codeine (and turkey) 3 times a day and a muscle relaxant (and turkey) twice a
day and see what happens. Now these
latter two drugs (both of which Elizabeth, who is prone to sports injuries
((especially if you consider handling powerful and rambunctious canines a
sport)) has herself taken) must be bought in a human pharmacy and the labels come
with some pretty stringent warnings.
Apparently I am to avoid drinking alcohol and should neither drive nor
operate heavy machinery. (My humans hate
it when I try to drive, operate the vacuum cleaner or drool in their wine). But since the drugs are being taken by a
Hound, I think that they should come with other warnings:
Warning:
This medication can cause gastrointestinal side effects: Do
not counter surf while on this medication.
Counter surfing may result in nausea, vomiting and diarrhea that is
worse than the normal amount nausea, vomiting and diarrhea caused by this
activity.
This medication can slow your reflexes. Do not chase the
neighbor’s cat while on this medication. You still won’t catch her but will be
too slow to avoid getting your nose slashed. It won’t hurt as much though.
This medication can cause a lack of balance. Sleeping with
one’s head and shoulders hanging off the bed is not recommended as it is can
result in falling off the bed and sustaining injuries requiring pain
medication.
This medication can cause drowsiness. Falling asleep on your
human while taking this medication will impede her ability to get to the
refrigerator.
This medication can cause euphoria. Contact your vet
immediately if you:
Feel an uncontrollable urge to sing
Feel able to dig yourself out of your yard
Have an inability to concentrate
Try to eat the entire couch in one sitting
Have a sudden urge to remove a few walls to create an open
plan kitchen that is visible from every other part of the house
Believe that everyone loves you
Urgently need to do something about all the clutter in the
closets
Believe that you can do anything that you want to do
My humans contact the vet a lot.
Of course the vet did note that my condition appears not to
be all that serious. This probably had something to do with my forcibly
dragging Elizabeth out of the exam room when the tech opened the door—he
muttered something about “no apparent diminution of muscle strength”. But I do love going to the vet. I just don’t
like what they do to me there.
Anyway, other notable occurrences this week included visiting
some of the new art installations down by the Hudson, dragging Elizabeth down
to Columbus Circle and trying to shop at the Time Warner Center and then
exploring the scenic industrial sites of the Far West Side instead of going for
a nice walk in the park, having a woman castigate my humans on the street for
forcing me to lead a terrible life in the city when I am so obviously a country
dog (do they have gelato in the country?) and having all the men who work in
Elizabeth’s building baying at me as I made my royal progress from the front
entrance, through the lobby and over to the elevators. I of course maintained a
dignified silence. Baying on command is uncomfortably close to being obedient.
Well that’s it for this week. I’m looking forward to the crisp fall weather
and the advent of leaf peeing season.
Until next time,
Wimsey, warning: prolonged exposure to this Hound will causes addiction
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