Entry #348

May 9, 2014

Hello Everyone, it’s me, Wimsey the Wicked coming to you from Manhattan’s Upper West Side where I have just one thing (OK, maybe more than one thing) to say: Hell hath no fury like a Hound whose human left him to go to Switzerland! Even in the best of times I am a contender in the Awful Hound Sweepstakes but this week I truly made my primary human Maria’s life a misery. Her friend Elizabeth, who normally takes care of me during the day, took off on a brief business trip to Switzerland on Saturday and thus was absent for our Sunday walk together. This was so vexing that I refused to walk without her. There is nothing Maria enjoys more than trying to walk a giant Hound who is masquerading as a cement block. Then during the week I refused to let Maria (who had to rush home during her lunch hour to walk me) apply my eardrops, eye ointment or toe cream because that is Elizabeth’s job. And just in case Maria was also thinking of escaping to Switzerland, I sat on her when she was at home and refused to let her read or use the computer, lest she begin researching travel destinations. Living with a Hound is difficult; living with a Displeased Hound is impossible.

Finally, after an eternity (Wednesday), Elizabeth arrived back at her place, sleepless and jet lagged but Maria asked (insisted) that she come out with us for my 6:30 walk. Elizabeth agreed and was hoping for a short walk so I took us all on a long crepuscular perambulation in Central Park to celebrate.   It was a joyous occasion. For me.  It’s hard to know who was more pleased to have Elizabeth back--Maria or me.

So things are back to normal except that Elizabeth brought home a pile of work that somehow involves sitting at the computer and writing things that are not about me. I can’t imagine anything more pointless.  And when I say that things are back to normal I mean that for our Thursday afternoon walk I took Elizabeth to the Apple store where I bayed loudly at everyone trying shop. When I speak, people listen. Everyone suddenly froze and swiveled to see who or what was making that delightful noise. Pretty soon the store is going to rethink having that nice large dog bowl of water by the entrance. 

Anyway, owing to the fact that it’s been a short week on news, I thought we’d take another trip through my photo archives and examine some of my obnoxious behavior in a little more depth:

Here is a picture of me as a puppy with one of my breeders, Lily Tayson.  It was probably the last time I allowed myself to be stacked properly.  Wasn’t I a cute little tyke? I was so small that Maria had to carry me up and down the stairs. But then she realized that I was 50 pounds and still demanding to be carried up and down the stairs.

Here I am paying a visit to one of the Central Park snack shops. Usually there are people sitting at those tables who get a surprise visit from Wimsey, Food Inspector.

And here we have a lovely troika of baying shots. My rule about baying is that I never do it when humans want me to but always save it all up for when I am not supposed to.  There are really an extraordinary number of people who stand and bay at me hoping that I will reciprocate.  I just look at them like they are crazy. Because they are.

Here I am being fed some Grom gelato. I will not eat gelato (or frozen yogurt) straight from the cup but demand that it be spoon fed to me.  Being served by humans is a crucial element to the enjoyment of food.

And speaking of being served, this is me next to my private water dish that my humans must carry in order to hydrate me to my satisfaction.  I won’t drink from it if it is on the ground, however—it must be held up for me at snout level. And when there is too much drool in it, it must be emptied and refilled with fresh water.

This is a picture of me actually eating something that is not being served to me---grass.  As soon as succulent grass appears in spring, I graze in a manner that would do any bovine proud.  It falls to my humans to pull the stuff out the other end when it gets stuck.  They love that.

Another couple of snack shop pics. I generally bay and carry on quite a bit which generally results in somebody feeding me or my humans luring me away with turkey or cookies or both.  You don’t ask, you don’t get.

This is from my favorite road trip—a visit to Maria’s mother in upstate New York and then a swing over to Michigan to visit one of my breeders and my sister and her human.  Here we see a plate of these delightful cheesy things—Maria’s mother is an excellent Hungarian cook and was delighted to have such an appreciative guest. ---especially when I followed her around everywhere waiting for her to disgorge goodies. You will of course notice that I am politely waiting to be served. Also that all the furniture is covered in the piles of sheets that my humans must tote about wherever we go.

And here I am auditing the contents of Maria’s mother’s refrigerator to ensure the wholesomeness of its contents.

 

Here I am in my rented Ford Explorer, the entire cargo space of which was taken up with my stuff.  My humans were permitted two small carry-ons.  But no matter how large the car and regardless of the seat belt contraption that I am hooked up to, I can still always execute a foray to the front to supervise the driving.  I also find that the driver’s shoulder makes a comfy resting place for my head in between gassy naps.

And this is me in Sand Lake. This is as far as I would go in in spite of the summer heat.  My humans were hoping that I would swim because I am always trying to swim in the Lake in Central Park.  But that is because swimming is not permitted in the Lake in Central Park.

And here I am at the beach on Lake Michigan with my breeder in the background.  I am baying because my sister is there just out of camera range. I harbored incestuous intentions and although I was consistently rebuffed I remained steadfast in my belief that baying would help me achieve the desired result. I think she bit me on the nose.

I will end with this picture. It is one of my favorites. It says it all.

Anyway, that’s all for this truncated week. Next week our wintry spring is going to turn into sultry summer so I am likely to be found lounging in the air conditioning threatening to lick my toe unless my belly is scratched.  Elizabeth might even get some work done. Or not.

Until next time,

Wimsey, a picture perfect Hound