Entry #354
August 1, 2014
Hello Everyone, it’s me, Wimsey, back at my post (no pun
intended) on the Upper West Side of Manhattan helping to celebrate the advent
of August and hopefully the approaching demise of the summer “No Walk
Zone.” For the uninitiated this is
anywhere where there is direct sunlight. And such is the delicacy of my petite
feet that my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth can almost hear me chanting
“feet feet feet” as I hightail it across the tarmac.
But first, I must tell you that I have been severely
chastised for omitting to let everyone know that my toe recovery was
substantially assisted by the large hunk of Morbier cheese that my humans bought
for me. I am especially partial to Morbier, as my humans discovered during one
of my many previous medical crises and I will eat it even if I refuse other
food. The healing properties of Morbier are not to be underestimated. Fortunately
(for me, at least), loss of appetite did not occur post toe surgery and the
presence of the Morbier did not inhibit me from snacking on all the other
cheeses on the cheese plate—preferably when they were presented on a nice
crusty piece of baguette that the ladies were trying to eat. Sadly, Fairway baguettes don’t taste like the
ones in Paris but in life one has to deal with such vicissitudes. And these
days the toe is in such fine shape that it is like it never happened. Except
for the bill.
But summer (and the ever-present threat of the dreaded
cooling coat) is not wholly without its benefits. My humans and I do hang out in the backyard more
often and we have already had two episodes of Adventures in Barbecuing. The first of these included a salmon steak from
the fancy fish store that was for my exclusive gustatory pleasure. This was
nearly not the case as Elizabeth found her chicken uneatable and Maria
suggested that she should have my salmon instead. (Naturally my food was the
only thing that turned out nicely). But 
Elizabeth was suitably horrified—it was
all “But that’s Wimsey’s salmon! “ So I
had my salmon as well as Elizabeth’s chicken and eventually all the rest of the
half chicken that she had optimistically bought. Episode Two was more successful, although not
from my point of view since the food turned out better. Maria made pizza dough and we had grilled pizzas. They weren’t too bad so the ladies actually
ate them, although they were too large so I was once again called upon to
employ my culinary skills to assist them.
I have no idea what is being planned for our next al fresco meal but I am pretty sure that it’s going to involve a
menu and a phone.
Summer is also good for visiting the Boat Basin Café,
although one horrifying day this week they actually ran out of Milkbones. I’m
afraid I refused to believe that such a catastrophe could occur so I parked
myself where they should have been and refused to move. This created something of a traffic jam for
the wait staff in whose way I was. The
impasse ended when Elizabeth forcibly dragged me out of the place while trying
to distract me with a fistful of turkey. As if. I get plenty of turkey (those who read this
blog regularly will no doubt recall that turkey is the preferred meat in the
pantheon of Wimsey Bribe-a-thon snacks) and I like the novelty of being served
by different humans. Anyway, I assume that my rather robust response to the
dearth of Milkbones had its effect because today as soon as the cashier saw me
she hustled off to procure me a Milkbone.
And of course summer in the city also means that there are
many activities such as this Sunday’s Riverside Park triathlon. This got me
thinking that there should really be a Hound triathlon, although picking just
three events from the plethora in which we excel is something of a challenge:
Hound Triathlon
Event One: Gardening-
Hounds will uproot and destroy a garden containing ten, expensive ornamental
shrubs and dig a minimum of ten holes.
Points awarded for speed and degree of destruction. Bonus points awarded for digging extra holes.
Event Two: Laundry--
Hounds will locate, invade and shred a large laundry basket filled with used
ladies undies. Bonus points awarded for
also destroying the basket.
Event Three: Towing—A
timed event in which Hounds tow their humans over a five mile course containing
mounds of horse poop, all of which must be located and snacked upon. Bonus
points awarded for dragging humans through the horse poop.
But really, there are hundreds of potentially enjoyable events
that could be used to construct a Hound triathlon. This week, for instance I used my prodigious
powers of excrement retention to make my humans waste the maximum amount of
time for the minimal amount of effect. Elizabeth and I took a leisurely 1 ½ hour
walk during which time I visited Unleashed to cadge a cookie and then the Apple
Store for a drink to wash it down with, but somehow did not find the time to
locate a suitable place to poop. Back at Elizabeth’s I had a lovely lunch of
cold chicken, yam and pumpkin (as well as some distasteful kibble), ate a bully
stick (there really ought to be a twelve step program for those) and settled in
for my usual afternoon nap. But later after some vigorous and noticeably
detectable peristaltic activity I determined that I wished to go 
out again. So
I alerted Elizabeth to the situation by finding a bully stick nub (useful
things, those) and flinging it at her, having multiple drinks of water and
shaking my head in her vicinity and then wiping my snout on her pant leg, and
digging in my toy pile to have various creatures weigh in on the issue. Finally
she got up from her work and started to prepare for a walk. At which point I
lay down and went to sleep. We did
actually go out for our next walk a bit early, which necessitated Maria meeting
us directly from work which resulted in the sliming of her work clothes and her
having to walk in shoes that are not sneakers. Then there are so few good spots
to poop in New York that it took me another hour to find one. For inexplicable reasons, my humans were
perturbed.
Anyway, enough about me (not). I thought that since it was summer we should
look in on my friends Dick and Jane.
Summer Fun With Dick
and Jane
See Dick. Dick is in the Hamptons. Dick’s father runs a
hedge fund. He is also called Dick.
Dick is sad. Dick’s parents are not celebrities. Dick’s
parents do not know Martha Stewart. Dick’s parents do not own their own jet. They eat gluten. Dick is underprivileged.
See Jane. Jane is happy. She is going to visit Dick.
“Hello Dick”, said Jane. “Hello Jane” said Dick. “Let’s eat
the cupcakes that I helped the housekeeper bake, “ said Dick. “I like cupcakes.”
said Jane.
See Dick’s Hound. See Dick’s Hound’s nose. See the frosting on Dick’s Hound’s nose.
Dick’s Hound eats gluten.
“I can’t find the cupcakes,” said Dick. “Never mind” said
Jane. ‘Cupcakes make you fat.”
“Let’s have a picnic on the beach!” said Dick. “I like picnics
on the beach!” said Jane. Dick’s Hound also likes picnics on the beach.
See Dick and Jane at the beach. They have turkey, cheese and
kale sandwiches. “Where is the turkey said Dick?” “Where is the cheese?” said
Jane. Dick’s Hound does not like kale.
“Never mind” said Jane. “Turkey and cheese make you fat.”
See the sun. The sun is very hot. “I am hot,” said Dick. “I
am hot,” said Jane. Dick’s Hound is also hot.“ See the big umbrella. “Let us sit under the big umbrella,” said
Dick. “I would like to sit under the big umbrella,” said Jane. Dick and Jane
cannot sit under the big umbrella. There is no room.
“Let’s build a sand castle!” said Dick. See Dick and Jane build a sand castle. The
sand castle is very tall. See Dick’s
Hound. Dick’s Hound likes tall sand
castles. See Dick’s Hound admire the
tall sand castle. See Dick’s Hound add a moat. See Jane cry.
See the nice lady. “Don’t cry little girl,” said the nice
lady. “Here is a cookie,” said the nice lady. “The cookie has no gluten,” said
the nice lady. “The cookie has no sugar,” said the nice lady. “The cookie has
no fat,” said the nice lady. “It does not taste very good,” said the nice lady.
“The Hound will not like the cookie”
See Jane. Jane is happy. The nice lady gave her a cookie.
See Dick. Dick is happy. The nice lady was Martha Stewart.
The End
But my humans and I do not want to be in the Hamptons. We
have the yard. And the barbecue (Although I bet Martha Stewart is better at
barbecuing). But seriously…
Anyway, that’s about it for this week. I have my duties to
attend to-- which mainly consist of making sure that my humans don’t attend to
theirs. I especially like it when
Elizabeth nags Maria about why she hasn’t done something for my book project
and all eyes swivel in my direction. Apparently working on the computer is
incompatible with having me in your lap.
Who knew?
Until next time,
Wimsey, making summertime living not easy
merely hang around reaping the benefits of
those that do. And I am quite a successful Lily of the Field if I do say so
myself. The latest use to which I have
put my human’s paycheck is an expensive canister of probiotic powder that is
supposed to rein in the fragrant flatulence with which I am so amply endowed. We are on Day 3 of the first week at half
dose and I am happy to report that both with respect to the quantity and the
quality of the stench my intestines seem to be going in the opposite direction.
This is hardly surprising as the rest of me always goes in the opposite
direction so why should my digestive tract be any different. Even my humans are
in awe. I think the plan is to keep me
on the stuff for as long as they can stand it, which at this rate will not be
very long.
But what would make the ladies
think that anything connected with me, even on a computer would be easy. And
lest everyone jump to the obvious conclusions, let us just say that my humans
are a lot better at computers than they are at driving cars, pumping gas or
dressing themselves. A very low bar, I agree, but at her company Maria is the
go-to person for computer and software help when the IT guy isn’t available and
Elizabeth’s idea of a fun shopping trip is an afternoon spent at Best Buy.
Anyway, Elizabeth’s Mac may be unhappy with Amazon’s book publishing
software but fortunately it is very happy with me. This is probably due to my regular visits
over the past several weeks to the Apple Store to get a drink from the
Wimsey-sized water bowl that they have at the door and to cool off in their
powerful AC. Last week, in fact I was so pleased with the amenities that I gave
an impromptu concert that, unlike many of my other concerts, was enormously
appreciated by those present. I had
quite a circle of admirers and the consensus was that I was in such fine form
because of the excellence of the amplifying acoustics. The only thing better
than listening to me bay is listening to me bay loudly. And the only thing
better than listening to me bay loudly is having ear plugs.
