Saturday, November 29, 2014

Wimsey's Blog: Diary of a Manhattan Bloodhound #366

 

Entry #366
November 29, 2014

Hello Everyone, it’s me Wimsey with a late breaking blog post from the Upper West Side of Manhattan written under the assumption that people must be bored with eating turkey sandwiches and watching football.  I’m sure they would much rather read about me instead. I mean how much turkey and football can humans stand, especially when there are Hounds who have much better uses for their time. I must say though, that I am finding the 4-day weekend a bit trying, as are my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth.  Maria is tired of me trying to drag her over to Elizabeth’s apartment to make up for the two-day deficit I have in hanging out over there and Elizabeth worries about me when I am not under her daily supervision.  That, and the fact that she has been trying to deal with all kinds of fun technology glitches in my social media career which she manages. But more about that later.

First, this week there is a serious absence of photos owing to the fact that we have been experiencing some premature winter weather and the ordeal of removing gloves and fishing out a camera or phone has proven too arduous a task for my humans.  Not to mention the fact that by the time they accomplish all of this I have moved out of frame and on to some other entertaining activity that requires their full attention—like being “in mood”, a condition that was the subject of some furious email exchanges between my humans this week.  Usually such exchanges take the form of texts but in this case there was simply too much obnoxiousness to convey.

A Day in the Life of A Hound in a “Mood”

The “mood” began on Tuesday when Elizabeth turned up as usual to take me for my customary midday walk and subsequent sojourn at her place. While she was getting me ready (eye ointment, ear cleaning, teeth brushing-- the usual pre-walk hygienic routine) there was some activity in the hallway which required some vigorous baying at on my part. Let me say that as vocal a Hound as I am outside I am very quiet inside and my humans discourage indoor baying in the interests of not getting nasty notes from the neighbors. It is extremely unusual for me to bay at anything going on in the hallway but all bets are off when I am in a mood. And in spite of the fact that the activity had ceased by the time I been bribed off the couch and into my harness I charged out of the apartment baying at the top of my lungs (which is to say at a deafening decibel level) and nearly tore Elizabeth’s arm out of its socket.

Once out, I made an immediate turn to go to Broadway, intending to investigate all the pre-Thanksgiving shopping going on at Fairway.  Elizabeth intended that I not investigate all the pre-Thanksgiving shopping going on at Fairway however.  I did eventually succumb to the lure of turkey dangled in front of my snout to get me away from the action (and the fully loaded grocery bags). At that point I realized that I was, in fact, quite peckish and had a major Snack Attack that required much feeding of multiple kinds of snacks to satisfy.  After dilly dallying and munching for a while I decided to head over to Unleashed to avail myself of some further snacking opportunities. En route I deigned to produce one pitifully small piece of business of the type that always causes my humans to wonder where everything that they shovel into me actually goes. (Not to worry though, Maria had the honor of collecting two bags full the next morning).

Anyway, I charged into Unleashed, rushed over to the cashier and began baying furiously at her to give me a snack from the cookie bar. Elizabeth tried to fob me off with their complimentary Snack of the Day which I promptly spat out, since it was a) not the snack I wanted and b) was not served to me by the cashier. Good thing the crew that was working that day likes me.  Elizabeth conveyed to the cashier the necessity of feeding me the desired cream cookie snack and then I took off around the store on an extended sniff-a thon. After this Elizabeth asked about whether they had any more of   another snack that I like (carob chip cookies) so she could indulge in some Guilt Buying.  She kind of feels bad that I regularly use the store as my personal olfactory and culinary playpen and then exit without purchasing any merchandise. The requested box of the snacks was brought out for me from the stockroom and the cashier handed me one just to make sure that they were still on the Snacks Acceptable to Wimsey list (I tend to go off snacks without warning—it keeps humans on their culinary toes). 

After buying a small bag of these snacks we finally exited the shop and Elizabeth and I promptly had a disagreement about which direction to take (my vote being to visit the restaurant arcade further south and Elizabeth wishing instead to head in a homeward westerly direction).  Such was my annoyance at being denied my preferred route that I set about baying in protest.  This attracted a group of picture taking and videoing humans (giant baying Hounds in the middle of Manhattan are scarcer than the proverbial hen’s teeth or the ((mythical)) Hound who listens to his humans).  And when I realized that people wanted me to bay, I promptly shut up, causing all manner of human antics to encourage further vocalizations and forcing Elizabeth to explain that I seldom bay when anyone wants me to.

Anyway, after accepting copious compliments about how amazing I am, we finally headed west where I carried on because I was not allowed to visit Furry Paws. I then cruised by the Cat Hospital and attempted to visit there with a similar result. Next I determined that it was essential that we not return home, but take the ramp down to Riverside Park South. The reason became apparent when Dana the Dog walker appeared heading up the ramp with her Pharaoh Hound and assorted poodle clients. This happy circumstance necessitated some extended and joyous baying (as opposed to the protesting kind—I have a bay for every occasion) after which I felt strongly that we should head south. As this was the opposite direction from home the bribing turkey made its reappearance. Elizabeth’s triumph was short-lived however because I decided that if I couldn’t go south I wanted to take a long walk to the end of the pier in the hopes that perhaps I would finally be able to follow scent across the Hudson River to New Jersey.  (Attempting to do this is one of my ongoing projects and I would succeed were it not for the presence of that pesky fence at the end of the pier). It took the rest of the package of turkey to make me appreciate the wisdom of returning home. That and the fact that my boiled chicken and yam lunch awaited.

Normally, this might be the end of the story, but when we came in, a mere two hours after Elizabeth picked me up, she made the mistake of putting the new pack of Unleashed snacks next to other unopened ones that are stored on the top of the filing cabinet. I had never before paid any attention to this cache but it suddenly became imperative that I liberate these snacks. Elizabeth rushed to the refrigerator to show me the leftover salmon that she was adding to my lunch (I am a well known lover of salmon).  So I ceased operations and ate most of my first bowl of salmon, chicken, yams and kibble and only finished the bowl when I stared at Elizabeth to get her to add some turkey.  I then returned to my activities at the filing cabinet causing a second bowl of food to rapidly appear and the snacks to disappear into a drawer. I did finally repair to my futon for a nap-- loud and gassy, which are the best kind-- and Elizabeth repaired to her computer to complain to Maria. Maria thought my antics were hilarious, mostly because they didn’t happen to her.

Anyway, on Thanksgiving my humans went to a nearby Australian restaurant where the food was surprisingly good (I can personally attest to this since I had a doggy bag of turkey) and they discovered by accident that there was a hidden, upstairs speakeasy kind of bar. The bar delighted them so much that they barely noticed it when I subsequently took them all over the neighborhood for a nice long holiday walk in the freezing cold. They also discovered that the place has a brunch that includes 4 cocktails for an extra $16 and they are threatening to avail themselves of this if I get in another mood.

So it was a very successful week for everybody. Less successful was our attempt to get my picture book The Wimsey Institute of Houndish Art that is currently sold on Amazon onto iTunes for sale there as well. It spat out our ePub version with a long list of its failings.  There is talk of that brunch again. I also now have an instagram account under Wimsey Bloodhound so I can share some of the many thousands of photos I have in my archive.  Currently I am posting pictures of my hat wardrobe and intend to move on to coats next.  I will share everything on Facebook and Twitter so no one will miss out on my splendor. I also now have a Tumblr blog under The Wimsey Institute of Houndish Art.  Watch out Grumpy Cat, Obnoxious Hound is coming for you!

Well I think I will leave it there for now. I hope everyone had a terrific Thanksgiving and remembered to give thanks (and turkey) for their Hound. I know I give thanks for me every day.

Until next time,

Wimsey, A Moody Hound

 





 

2 comments:

Bentley said...

When will humans ever learn? It is a hound's job to do the opposite of what the humans want! If they'd all just accept that, everything would be fine.
(however, my human's continue to try to come up with some way to get me to bay upon command. Ha! Just not every going to happen!)

Bentley

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