Thursday, June 17, 2010

Wimsey's Blog; Dairy of a Manhattan Bloodhound #172

Entry #172
June 18, 2010

Hello everybody, it’s me Wimsey, once again coming to you direct from Manhattan’s Upper West Side where I continue to bedevil, or more accurately, behound my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth. Now last week Elizabeth snuck off to San Francisco where she had allegedly important business. But of course there really is no important business that does not involve me so I say she was just shirking her Hound coddling responsibilities. But she did drop by the South of Mission Bar called Bloodhound ( named in my honor I expect—see post #159-- for a quiet beer and a chat about me. Of course when the bartender heard that she knew me he refused to take payment for the beer—he obviously understood that adult beverages are a necessity for anyone who spends time in my presence-- and then another patron struck up a conversation about the wonders of the Bloodhound. He himself currently has small dogs which were lounging on the couch near the bar in a highly insouciant manner of which I would have immensely approved had I been allowed to accompany Elizabeth on her travels. Of course naming your bar “Bloodhound” and actually dealing with one in your establishment are two entirely different things. But the bar has lots of excellent beers (perhaps they will carry Baying Hound Ale! The Baying Hound Aleworks commences official operations July 1—I will keep you posted on progress and availability of the brew)—I mean what could be more appropriate than having an alcoholic beverage named after the animal that drives you to drink?

But there could be lots of other products named after Bloodhounds:

The Bloodhound Brand Dishwasher (with its special “pre”-pre-rinse cycle)

The Self Opening Bloodhound Brand Refrigerator (an excellent product for dieters since the only food ever left in it is lettuce)

The Bloodhound Brand Bed (an extra-large king-size excellent for those with bad backs since getting shoved off of it and sleeping on the floor has a salubrious effect on the spine)

The Bloodhound Brand Tail Height Coffee Table (guaranteed to be clutter free)

The Bloodhound Brand Dining Room Table (guaranteed to be food free)

The Bloodhound Brand Garden Gnome (yellow only)

The Bloodhound Computer (the mice are real!)

The Bloodhound Brand line of Clothing (never requires washing because drool, dirt and stink are indelible)

The Bloodhound Brand Bathtub (makes Hounds of all sizes disappear as if by magic!)

Anyway, the whole going out of town thing was really annoying and very inconvenient and if no man is a hero to his valet no human who has supposedly been conducting important business in California is important to her Hound. On the first afternoon after her return, Elizabeth, who may have been secretly hoping for an enthusiastic greeting, found me languidly sprawled out in bed, pointedly rolling over in an accusatory manner to call attention to her dereliction of duty.

But the ladies often discuss ways in which I could be permitted to fly in the passenger cabin of an aircraft. These discussions mostly involve me being some type of service dog. The question is what kind?

Maria: Well Wimsey can’t be a Seeing Eye dog because we both can see and he really can’t--not with all his skin folds covering his eyes most of the time.

Elizabeth: But maybe he could be a Smelling Nose dog trained to alert us to the presence of rotting rodents.

Maria: I don’t know if the airlines would buy it. How about if he were a service dog to make us feel less depressed?

Elizabeth: Like how less depressed he makes you feel when he consumes all your time and money? How about an anxiety therapy dog?

Maria: Like how relaxed he makes you feel when you know at any moment he’s about to take off with you down the stairs or fling drool in total strangers’ faces?

Elizabeth: I guess Wimsey is more of a depression and anxiety producing dog than a relieving one. How about Wimsey as an alerting dog?

Maria: But how useful is a dog who alerts you to the presence of police officers and other people he likes, or female dogs, or squirrels or tourists carrying plastic water bottles (especially those of the non-English speaking variety who don’t understand “Quick! Hide the water bottle!” until it is too late) or people eating tasty things for lunch?

Elizabeth: But Wimsey must be good for something!

Maria: Well he is good at making you feel small and unimportant. And he is a celebrity-attracting dog so I guess if you had a pathological need to meet celebrities he’d be a good service dog.

Elizabeth: I know! A food tasting dog!Maria: Yes, but that implies that there would be some food left when he is done tasting it.

Elizabeth: Good point. I don’t think Wimsey is service dog material. Anyway, since we’re really his service humans maybe he should buy the ticket and take us along instead.

Maria: Which reminds me, Warren Buffett called to offer Wimsey a NetJet account.

But anyway the fact that no matter how far away my humans stray they somehow end up spending unconscionable amounts of time either thinking about me or talking about me makes me think that they perhaps have A Problem. After all if people are prone to become addicted to food, sex, shopping, texting, etc. why not Hounds? What could be more worthy of an addiction after all.

Wimsey’s Hound Addicts Anonymous

New member: Ahroo! My name is Maria and I am addicted to Hounds.

Group: Hello Maria.

Group Leader: Welcome Maria. We discourage the use of Ahroo as a greeting. We don’t feel it is helpful to the process.

Maria: Sorry. But it is an essential part of the greeting ceremony.

Group Leader: We also try to discourage greeting ceremonies so we ask that you not wiggle, run back and forth, jump up and down, lick and of course bay.

Maria: That’s a lot of rules. Hounds don’t like rules.

Group Leader: We know. But you have to learn to connect with your inner human and stop using the Hound as a reference for behavior.

Maria: But behaving like a Hound is good for my career—being loud, assertive, persistent, determined, tenacious, stubborn, self-centered and opinioned have got me where I am today.

Group Leader: And where is that?

Maria: Unemployed.

Group Leader: I also imagine that dressing in drool spattered jeans and tee shirts are not helpful. Why don’t you wear a dress.

Maria: A dress? A dress? I have heard the term but I can’t quite seem to place it.

Group Leader: You know, those garments without legs and bulging pockets.

Maria: But where would I put all the Hound’s treats and poop bags. And it would be very cold when the Hound conducted his routine clean underwear check.

Group Leader: But you must have a life away from your Hound. That’s why you’re here.

Maria: But what does one do with a life away from a Hound? I mean that’s a lot of empty hours.

Group Leader: Well have you thought about forming new relationships?

Maria: Well there is a nice terrier in the neighborhood.

But really, my humans would be lost without me. When humans have too much time on their hands they just wreck the planet or create vapid TV shows, or watch vapid TV shows or play golf. So really Hounds are providing a service to humanity by sucking up all their misspent time and energy.

And speaking of energy we have had some lovely walks this week except that on Sunday the Puerto Rican Day parade caused some of my favorite paths to be blocked off! Fortunately these barricades (in front of which I would simply lie down and wait for them to go away) had people manning them who were on hand to scratch me and admire me and give me water bottles to play with. And there were many cries of “Lindo Perro!” among those headed off to the festivities.

And then one evening this week we met this fuzzy puppy who is only 3 months old and will grow into a giant Central Asian Shepherd who will be much bigger than this Giant Central Park Hound. All the pictures were blurry because he stays still even less than I do.

But now I really must be off—it’s time to sit on my service human’s lap and make her feel useful.

Until next time,

Wimsey, at your service (not)


Lola and also Franklin, too said...

Well, you're a Bloodhound so you should be able to find things if you were so inclined. You could be a finder of lost things service dog. I think that my Alpha Mom loses so many things it could qualify as a disability. When they see her walk into the bank they just get a new debit card ready for her automatically. Boarding passes would not be safe with her. If you'd like I could ask her to train Maria and Elizabeth to lose so much stuff that they can't travel without a service dog.

wags, Lola

The Thundering Herd said...

We would totally buy you as a service dog on an airplane. After you, no one would complain about stale airplane air ever again.

Bentley said...

Wimsey, my human liked your envisioning of a "hound addiction" meeting - she laughed too about the idea of wearing a dress!

The closet here is pretty much a vast expanse of denim. All jacket pockets and totes seem to be permanently stocked with baggies and treats.

It seems like all is as it should be!