Wimsey's Blog: Diary of a Manhattan Bloodhound #161

Entry #161

March 19, 2010

Hello everyone. It’s me, Wimsey welcoming you to my birthday post from New York’s Upper West Side where spring has clearly sprung, bringing rain, sunshine and flowers all for my perambulating pleasure. And it has been another social week this week, with meeting and greeting many fine new friends, large medium and small. And of course there was St. Patrick's Day to celebrate with my green sequins and soem meeting and greeting of parade goers.(Next year I want to wear a "Kiss Me, I'm Irish Button" and see if anyone does!)

It is also the beginning of the annual season of Tourist Wimsey Worship wherein I get to snuffle and drool on as many citizens from around the globe as possible and my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth get to practice their language skills. The fact that they can only say things that relate to Hounds somewhat limits the conversational possibilities, but I am sure their knowledge will prove very useful:

Maria and Elizabeth’s World Tour

Dining in France

Waiter: Bonjour Mesdames. What would you like?

Maria: I have a very beautiful Hound.

Elizabeth: His name is Wimsey.

Waiter: Congratulations. But what would you like to eat?

Maria: Wimsey likes to eat salmon. He can eat much salmon.

Elizabeth: Also the roast chicken. He is very big. He weighs almost 60 kilos.

At the Hotel in Germany

Desk Clerk: Guten Tag. Are you checking in?

Maria: I have a very beautiful Hound. He likes to sleep on the big bed.

Elizabeth: But he does not like it when you sleep on the big bed.

Desk Clerk: I can give you two beds.

Maria: Wimsey makes many loud noises when he sleeps.

Elizabeth: Also he makes many odors.

Seeing the sites in Rome

Tour Guide: Buon giorno signoras. May I show you the Forum?

Maria: I have a very beautiful Hound. He likes to take many walks.

Elizabeth: He is very strong and pulls very hard when he walks.

Tour Guide: The Forum has many old and interesting buildings.

Maria: Wimsey likes old and interesting buildings.

Elizabeth: Wimsey likes old and interesting buildings that have been recently visited by interesting dogs.

At the Royal Palace in Budapest

Guard: May I help you?

Maria: I can say Bloodhound in Hungarian.

Elizabeth: I can too but you won’t understand me.

Guard: Are you looking for something?

Maria: Bloodhounds. The fountain with the Bloodhounds. I have a Bloodhound. A really, really big Bloodhound. Although not as big as the Bloodhounds in the fountain. Bloodhounds are good. Bloodhounds smell things. Bloodhounds smell things that you don’t want them to smell, like your dirty underwear and other people’s backsides. Bloodhounds are loud. Bloodhounds scare people when they bay. Bloodhound, Bloodhound, Bloodhound. Isn’t it wonderful that I can say Bloodhound!

Guard: Not as wonderful as the fact that I can say tourists are crazy.

At the pub in London

Landlord: What can I get you lovely lassies?

Maria: I have a cracking Hound named Wimsey.

Elizabeth: Folks are gobsmnacked at the sight of him. Especially when he bungs his bum into their laps.

Maria: It makes them sling their hooks right sharpish it does . He weighs over nine stone.

Elizabeth: Here is his photo. Care to have a dekko? He’s the dog’s bollocks he is. Really.

At a bar in Barcelona

Guy: Buenas Noches. Two beautiful women all alone!

Maria: I have a beautiful Hound. He is very nice but he smells.

Elizabeth: He likes to say hello to people and then they smell too.

Guy: Can I buy you a drink?

Maria: Wimsey drinks much water. This makes him pee a lot.

Elizabeth: He also throws drool in your face. It is very thick and sticky.

Guy: Now I understand why you are alone!

My humans are masters of Conversational Hound!

Anyway, today is my birthday and my humans are all of a flutter trying to think of what to do for me. I definitely know there will be poached salmon for dinner and a cup of Grom gelato when I am finished with my antibiotics, but it’s a big challenge to cosset an already much cosseted Hound. And speaking of antibiotics, I am back in pleine forme as the French say after my recent unfortunate dog vs. Wimsey encounter. My stitches came out on Wednesday and I got to see my new friends at the emergency vet’s office and make even more new friends in the waiting room. I do some of my best socializing at the vet’s. Probably because I am there so often.

Well during my convalescence I was taken excellent care of. Personally I think I too would make an excellent nurse—perhaps as a cost cutting measure the insurance companies should look into employing Hound nurses.

Wimsey’s Hound Hospital

Nurse Wimsey: Are you comfortable?

Patient: Yes nurse.

Wimsey: Well we’ll have to do something about that. Seeing humans comfortable makes me uncomfortable. It makes me feel inadequate. Let me adjust those pillows.

Patient: But if you lie on them they will flatten out.

Nurse Wimsey: Exactly. Fluffy pillows are bad for your neck. In fact I will just liberate a little of the stuffing and then they will be perfect.

Patient: But now they are just pillow cases!

Nurse Wimsey: Excellent. How about some water?

Patient: Yes please.

Nurse Wimsey: I’ll just taste it first to make sure the temperature is correct.

Patient: But there’s drool in the water now!

Nurse Wimsey: Drool has many health giving properties. Are you hungry?

Patient: Yes.

Nurse Wimsey: Here’s dinner.

Patient: But it’s just some Jell-O!

Nurse Wimsey: Sorry about that. The rest of the food wasn’t too bad but I never did like the taste of Jell-O. Hospital food has too many calories and processed ingredients and I only permit the best for my patients. Let me arrange your sheets.

Patient: But you’ve pulled them off the bed!

Nurse Wimsey: I am constructing a sheet nest so I can be at your side to constantly attend to your needs . And speaking of needs, how about a bed pan?

Patient: OK. But that’s the Get Well Bouquet my friends sent!

Nurse Wimsey: You’re lucky you didn’t get the rose bush. Those thorns can be tricky.

Well, let’s see, did I mention it is my birthday, an exciting event Chez Hound, so I decided to see what the year has in store for me over at cafeastology.com:

Your Birthday Year Forecast

With the Sun and Moon in a waxing semi-square at the time of your birthday this year, the period ahead is one of new initiatives and action (time to finally eat the couch?) You possess quite a bit of energy, but you must be aware that emotions color much of what you do this year. (How will I feel if I eat the couch?)

The Sun conjunct Mercury and Uranus in your Solar Return chart suggests a very busy period ahead, with plenty of activities, interests, and intellectual stimulation. (Hope this means towing, gardening, and drool flinging and not obedience class).Flashes of insight into existing problems are likely. (If I eat the couch I will have nothing to nap on!) You are making important changes this year, and leaving the past behind in some manner. (Will be getting rid of that heinous gentle leader!)

At times, you may be rebellious, (Moi???) so it is important to listen to your heart and to take action rather than always reacting to others and situations (perhaps I should make more effort to take charge of the walk from the very beginning instead of merely towing in the opposite direction from the one in which my humans want to go?) There may be times that you feel like the pace of your life is running ahead of you (No, this is the problem my humans have). You can be especially productive, however, in all types of communications--writing, speaking, learning, teaching, and so forth. (More communication about me!)

There are bound to be some surprises in store (usually surprises are for my humans. Like those missing brassieres.) Your thinking is more clever and original this year (this one strikes fear into the hearts of my humans), and there may be unexpected opportunities for travel, as well as new and perhaps unusual friendships (perhaps I will befriend a moose during my spring trip to Upstate New York and the Midwest)
You are able to come up with original solutions to existing problems and brand new ideas more readily this year (how to eat the couch in such a way as not to impair its napping potential).

This is a good year for projects involving technology or New Age topics (my book on Houndism?) You may find more opportunities to attend meetings and other organized group activities, to communicate online, and to take part in activities involving computers (more social networking!), scientific projects (the application of Newtonian physics to the destruction of the human body!), or metaphysics (I stink, drool, tow and destroy, therefore I am.) Original, creative ideas are easy to come by this year. (A new approach to Elizabeth’s closet clutter problem perhaps?)

With Uranus electrifying your Sun much of the year, you can expect a more liberated and interesting year than most. (Is this the year of The Unbound Hound!) Changes are in store for you, and they're likely to be very positive if you recognize and honor your need for newness in your life (I honor my need to undertake new and unexpected projects. Maybe I should go for the bed instead of the couch?)

Jupiter transits your Sun this year, bringing more awareness of moral issues and long-term goals, as well as a stronger than usual desire to improve and learn this year (What more can I do to disrupt the lives of my humans?) Optimism and confidence are with you, and you are able to attract fortunate circumstances into your life as a result (hopefully in the form of Grom Gelato, poached salmon and Dean’s pizza).
Problems are easier to resolve this year (do it my way). You are more sociable and might meet especially helpful people (who share their sandwiches with me) during this period. Travel opportunities are more likely (my spring trip!). Your broader perspective on matters this year keeps you from getting lost in details (do I eat the couch from the top down or the bottom up?) or overly frustrated by everyday stresses and strains (like having to wear a gentle leader going down the stairs so I don’t kill my humans).

This transit heightens your optimism and generosity (I look forward to sharing my drool with even more people), and the entire cycle, which runs until December, has the potential for being a relaxed, fortunate, and hopeful time in your life. (Just like all the other times in my life).

You are greeting life with a fresh, can-do attitude (The Hound is definitely a can do creature as long as it is something we want to do and nothing you want us to do). Events occur that help you to overcome problems that previously seemed challenging or even insurmountable--you have an altogether different perspective on life now, and are not inclined much to sweat the small stuff (OK. Won’t worry about my inability to kill my humans going down the stairs as long as I can inflict bodily harm at other times). You create a distinct first impression on others (given my size, my stench and my drool, this is a gross understatement), and your likeability increases (can this even be possible?)

Work is solid this year (a lot of my work is liquid), and you can see results from your efforts, or at least foresee success down the road. (More physical therapy for Elizabeth!) This gives you a sense of responsibility and a feeling of directedness and purposefulness. (I am nothing if not purposeful. Although my purposes are seldom of a desirable nature). Traditional methods work, and thoroughness brings rewards (will stick to traditional chewing, shredding, digging, and flinging drool and will give over trying to devise fancy wrestling manoeuvres). Practice or refining a technique is favored this year (I will diligently practice my towing!) The approach that seems to work best with this aspect is a step-by-step one, with modest ambitions and the appreciation of slow but steady progress (perhaps start with just the legs of the couch).

Saturn is square Pluto in your Solar Return chart. This suggests a need for you to come to terms with your own powers of authority and your effectiveness. (I am always seeking ways to be more powerful and effective). Power struggles, frustration, and manipulation are possible themes this year (as I tirelessly and ceaselessly battle the machinations of the evil humans who are attempting to control my impeccably Houndish behaviour). You may desire change, but feel blocked by others or by circumstances. Persistence will pay off in the end (did a Hound write this?).Personal confidence and hopefulness run high, and so does a need for freedom (As a Hound, I find this bit unnecessary and redundant). Some new ideas are abundant and learning opportunities are many (this is just what my humans are afraid of; perhaps I should learn to open the refrigerator and cut out the middleman). This is a busy period in your life in which you make helpful and stimulating contacts (more celebrity admirers?)

Work is solid (my humans like solid) and brings slow but steady rewards. Even so, you are especially imaginative and creative, (this is not a desirable forecast if you happen to live with a Hound, especially if you want to retain your food and possessions) and channeling this energy into something productive can bring rewards. (Everything Hounds do brings rewards, otherwise we don’t do them).

Well that's my year according to the stars. Now I must get back to my birthday celebrations. That salmon is calling to me.

Until next time,Wimsey, Birthday Hound

Wimsey's Blog: Diary of a Manhattan Bloodhound #160

Entry #160

March 12, 2010

Hello Everyone, Wimsey here coming to you as usual from Manhattan’s Upper West Side and feeling fortunate to be doing so. So fasten your seat belts, we’re in for a bit of a bumpy ride this week.

Normally on a post dated March 12th I would be discussing the upcoming Ides of March and how Caesar should have listened to his Hound, Wimsius Houndus Giganticus, and gone to Cancun instead of hanging around the Forum waiting to be stabbed. Or perhaps I would be reveling in the upcoming holiday of St. Patrick (and the role of the Hound as the reverse leprechaun) which unlike the more sedate holiday of St. Hubert (whose monks are responsible for the perfection that is The Bloodhound) requires ebullient New Yorkers of all ethnicities to drink as much as possible and throw up in the street. Or perhaps I would be conducting a critique of this year’s Oscar’s (and how I am thinking about emulating the movie “Precious” by renaming this blog: “Wimsey’s Blog: Diary of a Manhattan Bloodhound Based on the Life of Wimsey the World’s Most Magnificent Bloodhound” ((except of course for the one stealing you lunch as you read this)). Or then again maybe I would be thinking about assembling one of those Best Actor/Actress coteries who seem to be delivering eulogies to people still alive and who would tell embarrassingly flattering and fawning stories about me and sing my praises with unrestrained verve.

Or finally perhaps I would be discussing my upcoming birthday next Friday, an event which always leaves my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth scratching their heads about what more they can do for me. Generally rather than adding to my pile of toys or the astounding total on my pedometer Maria prepares me a Norwegian cream cake whose recipe comes from our good friend Nanook the Newfy whose pre-diet favorite it was. Then, as is the annual custom, my humans sit back and marvel at how the pints of whipped heavy cream do nothing to perturb the Wimsey digestion whereas a smidgeon too much roast chicken or a bit too much roast beef send me running to the curb to produce a hot mess. For the record Grom Gelato (whose season is close upon us), pizza and Maria’s mother’s baked goods also have surprisingly little effect on my intestinal well being.

But I digress. Well this week started out perfectly normal—a beautiful Spring Day where, as an avidly sporty Hound, I invaded this game of touch football and delighted those who were privileged enough to view me perambulate about the park. (I was actually quite a successful quarterback at one time, always sending my team long for a score right into the hot dog stand). And then as I was lollygagging about in my usual way to avoid exiting the park a man sitting on a bench 20 feet away with a snarling Wheaten Terrier “lost control” of the leash (must take lessons on how this 40lb animal got a grown, non-elderly man to lose control of the leash, whereas I, at a majestic 130, have never been able to so with either of my dainty ladies despite outweighing one and coming close to outweighing the other). Anyway, the long and the short of it was that I was attacked. And not being used to such events, my humans inspected only my head and neck for signs of damage and finding none, unfortunately did not exchange information with my attacker’s human. It was not until we were close to home and passing the 20th Precinct when we ran into my special friend, Officer Wendt and this sharp eyed officer of the law called my humans’ attention to a large and ugly wound behind my right leg. (Here is a picture of me with that fine, Hound loving officer in happier times).

Well, as my usual vet’s office was closed I was summarily hustled off to Westside Vet where I was inspected minutely until it was determined that I had only one wound. So I spent my Sunday evening getting shot up with drugs, being anesthetized, intubated, probed, X-rayed (my abdominal wall was still intact!) and finally sewn up. But not before the poor vet had to list all the drugs she was going to use on me for Elizabeth’s approval and to listen to a biochemistry lecture (she’s lucky that Elizabeth skipped the part about the genetics of the cytochromes) about my being a poor metabolizer of drugs and how easy it is to give bloodhounds a one way ticket over the rainbow bridge with anesthesia. I must say, mercifully I don’t remember much about all this but I am told my humans did not get a lot of sleep that night even after being told that I had come through fine.

Anyway, on Monday I hobbled off to Elizabeth’s Hound Hospital to begin my recuperation. And through the haze of drugs I was able to discern that there was a nursing schedule of my meds and compresses stuck to the fridge and that a deluxe sheet nest (an old duvet of which I am fond and a pile of sheets) had been thoughtfully prepared for my comfort. But not for my comfort was The Giant Plastic Cone, measuring something like five feet across, to prevent me from ripping out my drain. I mean who invented this thing? In New York City apartments one inattentive swipe could catastrophically wipe out the entire gin collection. Fortunately the cone was dispensed with in favor of observation until Maria procured a “more comfortable” inflatable one. And Maria, whose stairs and work schedule precluded her from taking part in my recovery sent over my stuffed dog and a new squeaky blue stuffed sheep to comfort me. But what really comforted me was being hand fed scrambled eggs while reclining in bed that first night. That was almost worth getting attacked for!

So that has pretty much been my week. By Tuesday I was feeling well enough to turn my attention to a campaign of seriously disrupting Elizabeth’s sleep. These disruptions largely consist of playing with my toys, having frequent long and loud drinks of water, digging and otherwise noisily rearranging my bedding, conducting regular bed checks to make sure Elizabeth is still alive, vigorous, loud flapping of the ears, snoring and when not snoring indulging in audible dreams featuring a wide range of Hound vocalizations. And I must give a shout out to Clavamox, whose ingestion enables me not only to produce more gas but a gas of a superior kind, being of an even more noxious nature than my usual emissions. Clavamox, which I will be on for two weeks, also has another beneficial side effect—because it must be taken with food and since I free feed, special, super delectable meals must be prepared so I eat in conjunction with the drug. These consist of various combinations of kibble with poached salmon, boiled chicken, turkey, rice, yams and pumpkin. Who says hospital food is bad! Sadly, I am being discharged from Elizabeth’s Hound Hospital this evening owing to Elizabeth’s incipient case of sleep deprivation psychosis (and my superior healing abilities, helped no doubt by all the healing thoughts from my good and caring friends at Maria’s office).

And on Wednesday I had my drain removed so hopefully the evil doughnut collar has been consigned to the dustbin of history. Everyone at this new vet’s office has been super nice since they are of the general opinion that I am a splendid and well behaved fellow (a clear case of a book being judged by its cover) and of course the fact that Elizabeth let slip that I had been shown at Westminster didn’t hurt my reputation any. Saying that you are a show dog is lot like saying you went to Harvard—it suddenly imbues you with a whole pile of characteristics that you probably don’t possess. In my case, everyone assumes that I am obedient and well behaved—which I usually am- unless of course you attempt to get me to do something that I don’t want to do, like getting off your lap or not taking my new squeaky blue sheep out for a walk. And being on restricted exercise this week has meant that I had to find new and peskier outlets for my energy, a situation with which I suspect anyone at home with a bored, sick child will immediately recognize and sympathize.

So the good news for this week is that Elizabeth was able to report to Maria that I was feeling better and the bad news for this week was also that Elizabeth was able to report to Maria that I was feeling better. It is of such dualities that life with me consists. A Hound is the ne plus ultra of no-win situations.

Well I could wax philosophical about how in the blink of an eye (or the bite of a tooth) life is suddenly changed and plans (and sleep) go out the window or about how we should appreciate those with whom we share our lives but really it’s all about cooking for your Hound and scratching his belly where the stitches itch (and a buying a good pair of nose clips). And of course allowing him to take walks with his new squeaky blue sheep even if it is raining and muddy out.

Until next time,

Wimsey, a Hound (unfortunately for my humans) on the mend

Wimsey's Blog: Diary of a Manhattan Bloodhound #159

Entry #159

March 5, 2010

Hello Everyone! It’s me Wimsey, welcoming you to the month of March which is an auspicious month around here on the Upper West Side of Manhattan because my birthday is in two weeks and I am starting the celebrations by transitioning from winter snow to spring mud. If you want to see why the euphemism “getting dragged though the mud” is so deleterious you have only to look at the state of my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth after one of our delightful Spring tows. And of course although falling in snow is less than desirable, mud is ever so much worse a medium into which to fall, especially when being dragged by a giant unconcerned Hound.

But speaking of snow, there was still plenty of it on our Sunday Central Park perambulation which excited me to such a degree as to require the services of the heinous gentle leader. It has been several years since this drastic measure had to be applied but when my humans realized that it took both of them to hang on to me it made its unfortunate reappearance, marring the supreme beauty of my incomparable face. And as usual it was all the fault of my human Maria, who owing to yet another of those pulled muscles, reduced the duration of Saturday’s walks to a degree incompatible with the maintenance of a safe energy level in one of my robust nature. I have suggested that she see someone about those pulled muscles but she says Cesar Millan is not available.

But the Spring weather did finally bring our friend Nancy out of hibernation along with her little daughter Alicia and her even littler Yorkie, Zorro (Zorro keeps well away from me as he is always in danger of being inhaled). My extended entourage always attracts lots of attention as we offer something for everybody—a cute little dog (silent), a cute giant dog (noisy) and a cute child (mostly asleep). The fact that Alicia was asleep may have made her mother’s life easier but since the awake version of Alicia is an important source of snacks I personally found it disappointing. Also disappointing is the fact that they seemed disinclined to follow me through the snow/slush and mud filled hills. Anyway, their reappearance is another of those telltale signs of spring, like the pile of muddy towels that I spontaneously generate.

Well it’s been a pretty quiet week here and I have as usual spent considerable time Googling “bloodhounds” and having a chuckle at what comes up. I especially liked the site that said that bloodhounds are not obedient because we are independent thinkers. Really, I think the problem is not so much that we are independent thinkers as that we are independent doers. But my most exciting find is that there is a hip dive bar in the trendy South of Market area of San Francisco called “Bloodhound.” According to the reviews this is a great place to pick up men so perhaps the ladies would like to make a field trip. But I was disappointed to see that none of the photos of the bar featured actual bloodhounds and the drink called the Bloodhound is pink (!!!!!). It consists of vodka, Campari and grapefruit juice which is all very well if you’re visiting a bar called Poodle but if you want to recover from an assignation with a bloodhound we’re talking a fifth of Jack, a bucket of ice and a heating pad. But this makes me think what a bar called Bloodhound should really be like:

Wimsey’s Bloodhound Bar

Patron #1: Wow! A Bloodhound Bar! What will they think of next?

Patron #2: Mind how you step. Let’s sit at the bar, there’s less chance of getting in the way of a stray leg lift.

Hound Bartender: Welcome to Wimsey’s Bloodhound Bar where drool rules.

Patron #1: Thanks. I’d like a gin and tonic.

Hound Bartender: I don’t take orders, I'm a Hound. Here, have our signature drink, “the Bloodhound.”

Patron #1: But it’s a glass of whiskey!

Hound Bartender: Yes, it will help you relax and forget about the abominable things your Hound did today.

Patron #2: Well do you have something lighter?

Hound Bartender: Well, you could try a Beagle.

Patron #2: OK. What’s in it?

Hound Bartender: It’s a glass of vodka, but it’s only 80 proof. And I can also recommend the Bassett—it’s the same as a beagle only in a short glass.

Patron #1: I’d still like a gin and tonic.

Hound Bartender: One English Foxhound coming up. Would you like that with or without some rabbit fur? We’re all out of fox tails.

Patron #1: No animal fur! Hey, what happened to the tonic?

Hound Bartender: Mixers tend to dilute the amnestic and analgesic effects of the drink. Most people who come into the Bloodhound Bar either want to forget or are in need of immediate pain relief. We tried holding a yoga class but most people find the alcohol works a lot better.

Patron #2: Do you have any bar snacks?

Hound Bartender: Yes. We have fried squirrel bits, fried squirrel bits with cheese, steamed squirrel bits and cottage cheese for dieters, raccoon chips with liver dip and for vegetarians a medley of fresh mowed spring grasses marinated in Hound urine.

Patron #1: Don’t you have anything people would want to eat?

Hound Bartender: Well this is a Bloodhound Bar. And I’m told that after a few Bloodhounds it all seems very tasty. Now, I am a bartender so you are required to tell me your problems.

Patron #1: I hate my job.

Patron #2: I’m lonely.

Hound Bartender: Such easy problems today. Clearly neither of you have Hounds. First, if you had a Hound you would love your job because it would mean getting away from your Hound for the whole day. Also with the money you earn you could buy stuff to keep him occupied so he doesn’t destroy too many of your possessions. And of course you’d be grateful for the cash to replace the stuff he does get to. Also for the vet and doctor bills. And as far as being lonely, if you had a Hound you’d meet loads of people—of course most of them would be in court, but litigation can be a very effective means of bringing total strangers together. And speaking of which, those two smelly, muddy, drool spattered and disheveled looking individuals over there have just sent you over two Bloodhounds (fortunately the drink, not the real ones) and a deluxe raccoon chip platter.

Well you get the idea. My humans sure do—tequila, gin and cachaca being pretty much staples when I am around. Anyway. Next time my humans are in San Francisco they are definitely going to make a field trip to the Bloodhound Bar and I will give them a list of “improvements.”

And of course the other shocking news around here this week is that apparently some kids were admitted to the control tower at JFK to help direct air traffic (no wonder my humans don’t like to fly). Hounds would have been better at it:

Control Tower: This is the Tower, Auxiliary controller Wimsey here. AA 321 please descend to 2,000 feet and bank 30 degrees left.

Pilot: Am I about to hit something!

Tower: Negative AA 321. I’ve had a report of a sighting of that fat black squirrel I’ve been chasing and wish to confirm location. Wimsey out.

And of course other professionals could benefit:

Teachers:

Teacher Wimsey: Now class, if Johnny has one slab of liver and Mary has two slabs of liver, how many slabs of liver do they have?

Class: 3!

Wimsey: The correct answer is none. Their Hound is very fond of liver.

Lawyers:

Councilor Wimsey: I object!

Judge: But your opponent hasn’t said anything yet.

Councilor Wimsey: But I always object. It’s a matter of principle.

Psychiatrist:

Dr. Wimsey: You seem very upset. Lie down over here on this couch and I’ll lie on top of you and have a nice nap while you tell me all about it. Then you’ll pay me $200 and feel a lot better.

Police:

Officer Wimsey: You’re under arrest! I must frisk you with my nose and confiscate any concealed comestibles.

Person: But I haven’t done anything!

Officer Wimsey: It doesn’t matter. I like running my nose over people and stealing their food.

Postman

Mail Carrier Wimsey: Mail, what mail? You mean I was supposed to deliver it!

I’m sure you too could benefit by bringing a Hound to work and who knows, looking for a new job might be fun. And speaking of fun, Sunday is the Oscars! And this year there are ten films up for nomination, but I like my versions better:

Avatar: An extra terrestrial Hound is sent to infiltrate earth using an avatar so that his fellow rapacious extra terrestrial Hounds can plunder the planet. Unfortunately the Hound discovers that this has already been done by earth’s inhabitants and he finds that on earth Hounds are worshipped and that lounging on couches, being waited on and having his belly rubbed is a lot easier than plundering planets anyway.

The Blind Side: An NFL football player becomes so distracted by the antics of a cute beagle that he does not see the giant Hound that barrels into him and steals his sandwich. So impressed is he with the tactics of these Hounds that he adapts them for the gridiron and becomes a star quarterback. In gratitude he buys the Hounds a lifetime supply of Subway.

District 9: A group of aliens known as The Shrimp are supposed to be evicted from District 9, however this proves dicey as it turns out that they have a biological weapon that turns members of the military industrial complex into Hounds. This presents problems as instead of being in danger of getting shot they are now in danger of getting eaten. The Shrimp are forced to flee in a spaceship whilst the Hounds turn their attention to another alien race, The Salmon.

An Education: A first time dog owner is convinced he wants a Hound. Everybody tries to dissuade him but he is determined. The guy’s dream unravels as it is a race to see what disappears first—his friends or his possessions. The movie ends with him having the distinction of appearing on both The Dog Whisperer and It’s Me of the Dog where he is humiliated using two entirely different training strategies.

The Meat Locker (orig. title The Hurt Locker): A group of high tech Hounds stage a daring raid on a local butcher shop.

Inglorious Basterds: A serious World War II movie that is a companion piece to the more light hearted “Dogs and Baitches.”

Precious: A movie all about Hounds.

A Serious Man: A physics professor (that was his first mistake) is saddled with an unfaithful wife, terrible kids and tenure track problems. He consults three rabbis for advice. They all tell him to lighten up and get a Hound. Impressed by the Hound’s unique application of physics to do damage and wreak physical havoc he writes a best seller called Newton’s Hound, is granted tenure and gets to sleep with his sexy neighbor. His kids are still terrible but he doesn’t care because at least they can’t eat the couch.

Up: A dog trainer tries to use reverse psychology on his Hound by giving him commands that are opposite of the behavior he wants. Unfortunately for him, the Hound really takes to the Up command and ensconces himself on the kitchen counter.

Up in the Air: A fantasy in which traveling by plane and staying in chain hotels is made to seem glamorous. And like all things that are fun and glamorous, they must ultimately be shown to be soulless to make everyone watching the movie feel better that they are not doing fun and glamorous things like meeting people in hotel bars who look like movie stars but are really home doing much more worthwhile and soulful things like cleaning out the Hound’s ears and making sure his poop is formed.
Well that’s my life for this week. Time to rest up for the weekend and another Oscar winning performance of Wimsey Disrupting the Lives of his Humans.

Until next time,

Wimsey, the Hound Star