April 18, 2014
Hello Everyone, it’s me Wimsey, coming to you from Manhattan’s Upper West Side where the annoyingly late arrival of spring has been dwarfed by the annoyances of my humans’ Hound un-friendly schedules. My primary human Maria has been working late again and had a tummy bug that kept her from my Sunday walk, my secondary human Elizabeth had two days of conferences (hence short afternoon walks) and a gig taking a dog to the ASPCA’s annual charity ball (AWOL for my evening walk). I do not like to have my schedule disrupted and it is not only that I know that I am owed 4 pieces of duck heart and not 3 pieces of duck heart before I permit myself to be leashed up, I also know when there are the wrong number of humans present for my walk. And when that happens I simply refuse to walk and stare fixedly at the abode of the errant human in full expectation that my stern glare will cause her to appear. The only good disruption is that Elizabeth’s camera finally packed it in so I was annoyed considerably less than usual with picture taking these last couple of weeks.
However Elizabeth is in the doghouse as she is planning on taking off for a business trip to Geneva at the beginning of May which displeases me greatly. I expect a cheese at least as in compensation. She has also come to the realization that the only French she speaks these days is Hound French and she can synthesize such gems as “Be careful of the drool!” and “ Be careful he will steal your water bottle!” And “Yes he makes that noise a lot.” Consequently she has been speaking to me in French to practice, but fortunately I don’t listen to her in that language either. Being a Chien de St. Hubert means that I am bilingually disobedient.
Well blogging has been difficult these days because the computers are being monopolized for the preparation of my art book (coming soon to you on Amazon!)
So I will be unaccustomedly brief:
- I managed to “persuade” (read coerce) Elizabeth to let me get a drink from the bowl at the Apple store, although I was less interested in the water than in “persuading” the store greeter to scratch me while I leaned on him to deposit hair and slime. Sadly I had to be summarily removed from the store for baying at the merchandise. The acoustics were fabulous and I disrupted the entire store!
-During the two days that we had of actual warm weather I was able to get into the back yard to begin eating the plants. That is until the couple who have the 4th floor balcony overlooking the yard starting calling my name and I started calling theirs. The yard is surrounded on all sides by buildings, so whereas the acoustics were not as good as in the Apple store, I am sure that they were sufficient to disrupt anyone trying to enjoy a peaceful afternoon at home.
-Although the weather turned cold again the daffodils in Riverside Park have emerged! This means my morning walks with Maria have turned into a contest of wills over the matter of my pooping on them. It’s a wonderful way to get warmed up for the rest of the day’s contest of wills.
- Even though Maria is home for a four day Easter holiday and Elizabeth was hoping for her own four day Easter holiday (from me) she still has to come over because I won’t let Maria put ointment in my eyes.
-I engaged in a major flap-a-thon last night which resulted in a major vet visit today. Apparently my right ear is infected so while the gunk is being cultured I have to have drops put in. See above.
So now let us return to examine a few more photos relating to My Obnoxious Hound Behavior:
OK, so maybe sitting with my bum perched on the back of a park bench is not exactly obnoxious but the fact that I ascend park benches to delay the progress of a homeward walk and then demand to be fed, is.
So this is me in the squad room of the 20th precinct with the captain. Why I am I there? Because I carried on so much and so loudly outside the precinct that the captain invited me in to shut me up. It was hard to get a picture because of all the ecstatic wiggling (I used to regularly drag my humans into the station house so I could indulge my obsession with greeting policemen).
As you can see, this is New York’s Houndiest keeping close tabs on New York’s Finest. If you look closely, you will notice that Officer Wendt is baying at me—something that some of the officers liked to do on the police car bullhorn when they spotted me on the street.
What’s this? I threw myself down on a city street in midtown to demand that (at least) one of these admirers rub my belly!
And a follow up shot of me calling out to someone else for attention. Or perhaps I just wanted to visit that shop. There are so many reasons for me to bay that I lose track.
And speaking of which, isn’t this a lovely close-up? This was taken by an AKC photographer when I was doing a pre-Westminster media meet and greet and Meet the Breeds event opposite Madison Square Garden.
So why am I baying at this guy? Do you notice how his hands are behind his back? I will give you a hint of what he’s got back there: W_ _ _ R B_ T _ _ E. He was reluctant to fork it over owing to the fact that he felt it was more important for him to stay hydrated than for me to have some fun. Humans can be so cruel.
With regard to baying, I have observed that those who don’t run away screaming in terror, give me stuff. Here is the pitch….
However, that behavior leads to this behavior and my general view of strollers as mobile snack shops. This can lead to a lot of explaining (and tight leash control) on the part of my humans to alarmed parents (“Not to worry, he’s not after your child, just his food….”).
Now as they say, every picture tells a story. This is Alicia again feeding me an ice cream pop. Normally I lick the ice cream off the stick but on this occasion I ever so gently relieved her of the entire thing and swallowed it whole. This led to frantic calls to the vet, a dose of oil and what I like to think of as “The Great Popsicle Poop Watch.” For the next several days all my gastrointestinal activities were regarded with even more than the usual intense interest and scrutiny and my eliminatory efforts were poked, prodded and squeezed to find the offending stick. Nada. After about a week the prevailing theory became that my digestive tract was imbued with termite-like properties and that I had digested the thing. Then one day when Elizabeth came to pick me up for my afternoon walk, there was the stick! Right on the carpet and completely free of any poop or sign of where it had been. Clean as a whistle it was. How was this possible? It remains one of the great Wimsey Mysteries.
Anyway, I hope that you are enjoying these jaunts down memory lane and that they compensate for the lack of an actual blog post owing to Wimsey Art Book Activities. Trust me, we are all hoping that the book gets done soon.