Wimsey's Blog: Diary of a Manhattan Bloodhound #365

Entry #365

November 21, 2014

Hello everyone, it’s me, Wimsey, coming to you from the Upper West Side of Manhattan where we are having something of a cold snap that I personally find rather invigorating. My human Maria and her friend Elizabeth also like the brisk conditions although they find it less than invigorating when they have to remove their gloves to respond to my frequent need to be snacked.   Cold weather always gives me an appetite which means that I have gone through a vast number of snack packs and turkey portions and yet still have room to dive snout first into leaf piles to extract abandoned edibles. 

And post-walk I am also to be found nose in the trough of my Never Ending Kibble (‘n stuff) Bowl.  I have always been a free feeding Hound and no sooner does one bowl of kibble disappear down my gullet than another appears as if by magic (although a hard and hungry stare helps the magic along). And then there is the daily Kibble Count. Maria’s kibble scoop holds 1 ½ cups and Elizabeth’s holds two cups so the ladies are able to experience shock and awe at the amount of kibble that I am sometimes able to put away when the daily eatings are tallied. But because this eating occurs throughout the day (and sometimes at night) it is thought to be an excellent bloat retardant since I seldom eat large amounts at any one time (large being relative, but usually I get cut off for an hour or so if I am exceptionally hungry and consume 6 or 8 cups at one go). I am also a leisurely eater which is thought to make me less prone to bloat. 

Of course the cup count also includes the amount that I manage to scatter around the apartment which is sometimes quite impressive—when a Hound with his flews filled with kibble shakes his head more than the fur flies. And much to the inexplicable annoyance of my humans I maintain a pretty constant 130 pound weight regardless of how much I eat but lose weight if I go on one of my light eating binges.  I pride myself on the fact that not only can I annoy my humans utilizing an arsenal of active techniques but I can also annoy them by passive methods such as my gifted metabolism.

But I digress (although a discussion of the ways in which I annoy my humans is always a pleasurable digression). The cold weather brings out the beast in me and as mentioned, this beast has a humongous appetite.  My humans are indeed fortunate that my increased appetite does not include a predilection for such delicacies as the couch. But really with so much gourmet nosh on offer, both in and out of leaf piles, I can’t be bothered. Also I have never figured out a way that the couch could be cut into bite sized portions and hand fed to me. But I do require the endless feeding of snacks and turkey during my long walks and then a rapidly replenished food bowl, (after which consumption I repair to one of my many napping venues to digest in the manner of a snake that has just eaten an ostrich). And as is the custom every year, my humans hope that all the food taken in will create a greater sense of urgency in finding a spot to get the food taken out. And every year they are disappointed. The carrying capacity of my bladder is only exceeded by that of my digestive tract so there is never any rush to empty either, especially on our pleasant nightly arctic perambulations.

The only bad thing about the weather will be obvious from the photos—the need to wear my coat (it’s made by Chilly Dog in Canada by the way, and is supposed to be suited to very cold conditions).  The Winter Coat Algorithm calls for it to be deployed when the mercury dips below 35F. (My care requires many such algorithms but fortunately none of them requires the solving of quadratic equations, although I am working on it, but so far my humans do not seem interested in calculating whether a gob of spit that I’ve flung will hit them in the face—they just run). The only good thing about the coat is that, if possible, it enhances my appeal and things that enhance my appeal enhance the chances of me being fed other people’s food.  

This weather makes it feel more like Christmas than Thanksgiving, which is shortly to be upon us. So in honor of the holiday let us look in on Dick and Jane and see how they celebrate.

 

Thanksgiving With Dick and Jane

See Dick. See Dick in his new suit. It is Thanksgiving!

See Jane. See Jane in her new pink dress. It is Thanksgiving!

See Dick’s mother.

See Dick’s mother in the kitchen. Dick’s mother has been in the kitchen for 2 days.

See Dick’s Hound. See Dick’s Hound in the kitchen. 

Dick’s Hound has also been in the kitchen for 2 days.

See Dick’s father. 

See Dick’s father in front of the television set.

 Dick’s father has been in front of the television set for 2 days.

 “Let us give thanks!” says Dick. “

Dick’s mother gives thanks for her large kitchen.

Dick’s father gives thanks for football.

Dick’s Hound does not give thanks. Hounds do not give anything, they take.

“I am thankful that you are my friend,” says Dick.

“I am thankful that I do not have to go to school!” says Jane

“I am thankful that my mother is a good cook,” says Dick.

“I am thankful for my pink dress” says Jane.

“I am thankful for the turkey,” says Dick.

Dick’s Hound is thankful that Dick’s mother had to leave the kitchen to pry Dick’s father away from the television.

See the Thanksgiving table. 

The Thanksgiving table is beautiful.

The Thanksgiving table has china.

The Thanksgiving table has crystal.

The Thanksgiving table has silver.

The Thanksgiving table does not have a turkey.

See Jane.

See Jane’s pretty pink dress.

Jane’s pink dress is no longer pink.

Jane’s dress is no longer pretty.

Dick’s Hound has eaten too much turkey.

Jane’s dress was in the way.

See Jane cry.

See Dick cry.

See Dick’s mother cry.

See Dick’s father watch football.

The End

The holiday season always pleases me (with the exception of the appearance of my elf hat and antlers) and I can already see signs that the Christmas tree vendors are setting up shop. This brings the annual “don’t let Wimsey pee on the Christmas trees” battle which I enjoy tremendously since I become the focus of even more attention, albeit of a different kind And then there is the abundance of gullible tourists in town to feed, photograph and admire me. 

Everyone thinks I am terrific but of course appearances can be deceiving—especially Hound appearances.  For instance, we look so noble, intelligent and wise when we are really a pack of silly idiots who frequently labor under  persistent delusions such as that slowly stalking a squirrel will result in its capture or that staring at the refrigerator will cause it to open.  And people think we look lazy, mellow and relaxed and that we would like nothing better than a life spent on the couch when we are endurance athletes and need vast quantities of exercise otherwise the couch in question is doomed to have a short life.  And we look like sturdy robust animals but really we are rather delicate and it is quite easy to issue us a ticket to the rainbow bridge with a bit too much anesthesia. And because we are such knuckleheads we look like we are impervious to human actions, but really we are very sensitive creatures and require gentle guidance as opposed to harsh discipline. And our droopy eyes and skin make us look perpetually sad when in fact the opposite is true since we tend to be a cossetted and much canoodled with lot. But the sad looking eyes do come in handy when we want something (and when do we not?).  We Hounds are the epitome of the rationale for not judging a book by its cover, something that my humans are frequently called upon to point out to all those admiring tourists. Fortunately they never believe them.

 

Anyway, I think I will leave it there this week. I hope everyone has a lovely Thanksgiving and I know that Maria will be thankful for not having to go work for four days and Elizabeth will be (very) thankful for not having to take care of me for four days. Of course, somehow during those times when Elizabeth does not have the daily care and feeding of me she texts Maria incessantly to find out what I am doing and when she can join us for walks. I am a hard habit to break.

Until next time,

 

Wimsey, a Hound to give thanks for (and to feed turkey to)

PS: There are now 365 posts so you can start at #1 and read about me every day for an entire year!