Friday, November 2, 2007

Wimsey's Blog:Diary of a Manhattan Bloodhound

November 2, 2007
Entry # 39

Hello Everyone. It’s me Wimsey and I can hardly believe that it is already November --my humans always dread the onset of the Wimsey Fall Frolic Season which has now come upon them with a vengeance. It’s all towing and

baying and charging about these days. Pretty soon it will even be time for Thanksgiving--a holiday of which I have extremely fond memories since last year my human Maria’s friend Elizabeth cooked me a delicious turkey dinner (sad to say that is the only thing that she knows how to cook, but I enjoyed it nonetheless). But the highlight of my Thanksgiving experience was wrestling with the little vet from the ASPCA, Dr. Julie Horton—a bout that was precipitated by my attempt to sample her caipirnha. She squeals even louder than Elizabeth! Anyway, Dr. Horton has just been appointed Medical Director at N.Y Veterinary Hospital ( 212 717-7222) at 150 East 74th Street) so all of you East Siders stop by and say “hi” and tell her that Wimsey sent you.

There was actually a wine and cheese party at the clinic last night to celebrate her appointment and there was some talk of me attending, but then the caipirnha incident was recalled and it was decided that my presence might be a tad on the disruptive side. I don’t know why my humans think I am so disruptive—last Sunday I was even exiled to Elizabeth’s whilst my human Maria baked some pastries for a friend’s birthday. Apparently she thought that my nose would end up in the rolled out dough. And? But being exiled to Elizabeth’s is a lot of fun because she does have a delightful squeal when I climb onto her lap and she also makes up a really comfy futon with special Wimsey scented sheets. Perhaps I should talk to Martha Stewart about marketing them.

But this week there was really exciting news—forget last week’s TV audition, my writing career and my feud with Maksim Chmerkovskiy—this week we acquired a fly in the apartment!!! It’s fantastic, let me tell you. He can walk on the ceiling and I sit endlessly fascinated watching him do it and thinking that this is an ability that I, Wimsey should be in possession of. I wonder if I eat the fly whether this ability would be transferred to me? That would give a whole new meaning to the word disruptive. Anyway, he flies through the air and is constantly on the move providing so many happy hours of stalking and watchful waiting lest he wander within snapping range. The only thing that could be better would be if we had a mouse infestation (mice and rats being the delightful squirrels of the night here in New York City). That would make me so happy! (Maria shudders at the thought, but then again her hunting skills are limited to shoes).

So now my humans know how it feels when I want to be scratched and they are watching “Dancing With the Stars’” Maksim Chmerkovskiy wiggle bits that a man has no business wiggling, especially in public. Now when they want to play with me I ignore them in favor of maintaining a rapt communion with my fly.

And speaking of Maksim Chmerkovskiy, he apparently got a perfect score this week and so sadly we will all be seeing a lot more of him (and I do mean more of him—his costumes seem to be shrinking)—I don’t know why he just doesn’t dance around in the altogether and have done with it—he could choreograph a kind of “If Adam and Eve Were Ballroom Dancers” kind of thing (I volunteer to be the snake—doesn’t the snake get to bite Adam in the backside somewhere in the story?) and then display all of himself to the world’s fawning female population. I am sure it is all very frustrating for him that there are still some parts of him that he has yet to put on display.

I have decided that Maksim Chmerkovskiy has now become my Arch Enemy. As you know all super heroes have to have arch enemies—Superman has Lex Luthor and Batman has the Joker and the Riddler and the Penguin and Spider Man has Doctor Octopus (why does no one have The Amazing, Clever and Beautiful Hound?) and I have Maksim Chmerkovskiy. We are locked in a deadly battle for the attention of my humans, who being female, find him insanely attractive. And of course being women they are riddled with contradictions. Has anyone else noticed this? For instance, they are always complaining that I am too skinny, but I haven’t noticed a conspicuous amount of body fat adorning old Mak’s all too frequently naked frame. Also they claim to admire my rich, enveloping coat of hair yet Maks waxes, depilates and otherwise zaps his body hair and they swoon. Harrumph!

Maksim Chmerkovskiy and Wimsey: Comparisons and Contrasts

● We are both lean, svelte and athletic
● We both have the ability to get our bodies into positions that seem to defy the laws of physics
● My body is richly appointed with a glowing coat of body hair while his has been stripped naked like a plucked chicken
● We are both passionate about getting our way
●I am visibly endowed with a fine set of manly parts, yet he keeps his hidden (thankfully at least for now)
● I am a drooler, he is a drool—ee
● We both have a fast set of paws and are ruthless in our pursuit of power
● We are both make creative use of the human body--he creates spectacular dances and I create spectacular bruises
● We both believe we are surrounded by inferior beings who need to appreciate us more
● He watches what he eats, I steal what people eat.

Anyway, to add insult to injury, I have to watch Maria use her computer (never one of my favorite devices even in the best of times) to vote to keep him on the show. I want to know how I can use the computer to create negative votes.

Well, I expect that like all super heroes I will eventually find a way to foil my arch enemy’s plans for World Domination. In the meantime, I find that I need to take a break from the struggle every now and then and what could be more relaxing that a visit to the Wimsey Institute of Houndish Art:

The Big Tree, ((Te raau rahi ) Paul Gauguin, 1891, The Art Institute of Chicago). Now first off, I really like this picture because of the fact that “Te raau rahi” sounds like a noise that I would actually make, although in my case it means “Give me that!” (most of my noises have a tendency to mean “Give me that”). Also, Gauguin was a man after my own heart—always searching for greater degrees of sensual experience—he on his grass pallet in Tahiti and me on my couch on the Upper West Side. But although Gauguin was a great post-impressionist and a father of modern art he failed to notice how the addition of a Hound could improve upon the idyllic scene he depicts. See how the insertion of a Hound adds to the primitive mysteries surrounding us in this fine painting. The Hound’s central position indicates the essential nature of the houndly being to all human endeavor. The Big Wimsey

Well, it should be an exciting weekend here—Maria just got a new waterproof jacket for walking me in the rain and it has yet to be snuffled and slimed. And then there is that fantastic fly! (I wonder if we can feed him to keep him healthy—perhaps I should ask Dr. Horton about fly care).

Until next time,

Wimsey—protecting the world from domination by sexy ballroom dancers!


Jake of Florida said...

Hello Wimsey.

We found you on a whim and were so excited to see that you live on the Upper West Side 'cause our Mom spent all her college years -- at Barnard -- on the Upper West Side and often talks to us about it.

Being a Manhattan Bloodhound sounds like a very important job!!

We'll be back. We just wanted to say hello for now.

Jake and Just Harry, two wire fox terriers from South Florida, aka the Barkalot Boyz

Biggie-Z said...

Wimsey, I hope you catch your fly! I think we have mices but my mommy just yells at me when I bark. I don't think she sees the mices. Someday if I catch one I will show her!

Love, Biggie

Crikit, Sparky, Ginger! said...

Hi Wimsey! you came up on our PIF and we sniffed on over. We all think you are so debonaire ~ and oh you are so important to Manhattan. We too are captivated by all things flying & Ginger especially likes airplanes!

wagging tails from The TX Gang ~ barking loud