Friday, October 12, 2012

Wimsey's Blog: Diary of a Manhattan Bloodhound #279

Entry #279
October 12, 2012

Hello Everyone, it’s me, Wimsey coming to you—finally-- from the Upper West Side of Manhattan where I have been busy not only being the Host with the Most (number of humans waiting on me) to my little French bulldog buddy Pluto last week but also this week conducting my usual outdoor out and about meet and greet and my usual indoor annoy and destroy activities.
When I was not involved in my hosting duties last week I was as usual vying for the title of Biggest Bane of Existence of my human Maria and her friend Elizabeth  (or She Who Must Take Care of Me During the Day While My Other Human is Off Working to Support my vet habit, my toy habit, my bully stick habit, my snack assortment habit, my turkey habit, my salmon habit and the laundry and dry cleaning bills that of necessity accrue to anyone within spitting distance (literally) of me).

Last week was a fine week all around with many excellent accomplishments:

Wimsey’s Accomplishments of Last Week:
Tree’d a raccoon on 84th Street thereby getting in touch with my coon hunting heritage and enhancing my street cred as the Upper West Side’s Fiercest Coon Hunting Hound. All this despite Maria’s attempt to dampen my considerable enthusiasm for the Hunt and her belief that I should confine my hunting skills to old pieces of pizza, plastic water bottles and the neighbor’s little doodle.
Dragged Elizabeth to The Lake in Central Park in the pouring rain and since we were both soaking wet already thought that going in and enjoying some quality time with the ducks was an excellent idea.

When sadly prevented from getting to know these ducks better turned my attention to a wedding taking place in the nearby Ladies Pavilion that I thought could benefit from the presence of an additional witness.  Elizabeth disagreed but my attempts to join the festivities will no doubt be enjoyed by the happy couple for many years to come when they view their wedding video.

Insisted that I should be accompanied on my walks by Doggy, my stuffed canine companion and perfected the art of dropping him to consume proffered doggy dropping bribing snacks only to snatch him back up again once the snack had been chomped and swallowed.
Decided that I wished to take my early evening walk from Elizabeth’s earlier than usual then refused to walk because owing to the early hour Maria had still not arrived home from work to join us.

Decided to visit the jewelry lady with the table on Broadway who always feeds me snacks and when she wasn’t there bayed and refused to move anyway.

Thought all of Elizabeth’s business calls this week sounded boring so endeavored to liven up the proceedings by playing with my squeaky tennis ball and shredding a stuffed meerkat all over the floor while she made wild (but futile) gestures to try to get me to stop.
Garnered a “Hello Wimsey!” from a gentleman dining outdoors at the tony Café Boulud reminding Elizabeth that I have a much better class of friends than she has.

Decided to include Elizabeth in my wrestling matches with Pluto so she wouldn’t feel left out.  (It’s more fun to wrestle her anyway--she’s meatier-- but somehow she disagreed).
Honed my hair trigger lap climbing response (even while in deep sleep!) in response to the sound of Elizabeth sitting down on the couch and touching a newspaper.

And in a lovely piece of irony:  after I pinned Elizabeth to the couch so she could scratch me instead of reading the newspapers or doing work she turned on the TV (which she had to watch around my head) to watch “It’s Me Or the Dog.”  Anyway, sadly there are never any pictures of my weekly accomplishments—something about needing two hands on the leash and full human attention and all that.

Now when my humans saw this picture they thought that it looked eerily like the proverbial tunnel of light that we are all supposed to experience at life’s end.  Then they realized the fact that I am obviously there to greet them would probably mean that they were not on their way to the Desired Location.  Consequently, my humans have resolved to try to be better people---the thought of an eternity with me has a tendency of making people feel like that.

Anyway, last week there was the first presidential debate but nothing of much interest to me was discussed—the only deficits that I worry about concern the lack of turkey in my food bowl. And I think humans always look strange when they are devoid of hair and drool and all the real politicians look and sound an awful lot like the TV ones.  But if I am not a big fan of drool and hair free politicians I really like their campaign slogans:
Forward.  (Obama):   I of course like this as it perfectly describes my attitude on a walk (except when my humans wish to go forward, then it would be Backward.). But I don’t like the period. I would prefer it to read Forward! Or better yet, Forward!!!

Believe in America (Romney): Believe in Hounds is catchier although to be wholly accurate it should be, Believe in Hound Owners—They Aren’t Exaggerating, I Swear It.  We frequently meet people who read this blog and who, although they should be well familiar with my antics, are shocked that “He really does that!” or “He’s really like that!”  Yes. Believe.

Yes We Can! (Obama):  Another gem from the Obama camp when it applies to Hounds.  When it applies to humans, it’s “No You Can’t”

Country First  (McCain):  It would sound better as Hounds First (humans last).
Let America Be America Again (Kerry):  It should read “Let Hounds Be Hounds Again and Shut Off Those Dog Training TV Shows   And I particularly like the “again” as it is a word frequently applied to Hounds as in “Hubert ate the couch. Again.”

Real Plans for Real People  (George W. Bush): We Hounds also make real plans for real people—like we plan to spend their money on toys and vet bills, we plan to steal their sandwiches, we plan to shred their underwear, we plan to monopolize the furniture, we plan to humiliate them in public, etc. We Hounds are great planners.

Putting People First (Bill Clinton):  Really “Putting Hounds First (and people where they belong, last).”  I also like his “Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow” because when you see what a bored Hound does to your house today, tomorrow has to be better. Maybe.

It’s Morning Again in America (Ronald Reagan).  It really should read, “It’s Morning Again in America (sigh)” which means it’s time for me to haul you around the neighborhood, greeting people, pouncing on dogs, hunting squirrels, sniffing provocatively but doing very little of what we actually came out to do until you are very late for work.

He’s Making Us Proud Again (Gerald Ford):  My humans say this a lot about me, but I don’t think they mean it like it was written.

But really, my favorite is Herbert Hoover’s “A chicken in every pot and a car in every garage.” Now those are ideas I can get behind. (Assuming the car is one large enough to accommodate my extensive magnificence).  But we Hounds are really masterful politicians—we are good looking, charming, determined to get our way, intensely manipulative, like to kiss babies (especially those eating ice cream), always appear to know where we are going, enjoy making frequent, loud speeches and are very popular in spite of being basically awful.  But I digress.

The major development of last week was not the debate but Pluto’s visit to Elizabeth—I found him in residence last Thursday after my afternoon walk. Here are the highlights:

1. Dug up the FIOS wires while looking for my toy pile that Elizabeth always hides in the closet when Pluto visits.

2. Ate a leisurely lunch while Pluto watched me while making very satisfying irate snorty noises.

3. Generously allowed Pluto to clean up the mess my lunchtime activities make on the kitchen floor (he’s a canine Roomba) despite the fact that this would deprive me of the satisfaction of hearing Elizabeth squeak when she steps on pointy pieces of kibble.

4. Tried to invade kitchen (to keep Pluto company—why else?) when he was eating dinner.

5. Engaged in extended pre-play stare downs with Pluto that always terrify Elizabeth into thinking that I am going to eat him whole until I play bow and wrestle him instead.

6. Chased Pluto thereby putting Elizabeth’s possessions in mortal peril of destructive flight.

7. Noticed that Pluto was deficient in drool quota so repeatedly remedied the situation causing him to resemble a tinseled Christmas tree.

7. Sounded the KITCHEN! alarm every time Elizabeth tried to sneak into that room so that Pluto and I could fly to her side to assist.

It was all a lot of fun and Elizabeth drank a lot of gin.

And this week, although perhaps not quite as eventful as last week, saw the annual advent of the Fall Friskies wherein the change in the weather seems to bring out the best in me (or the worse depending on your point of view).  This year it meant charging down Broadway baying, leaning on people then standing on my head and then flopping over for a belly rub, poking strangers who seemed surprised to find a giant Hound nose in places where giant Hound noses should not be, finding piles of horse poop in dark Central Park tunnels and getting my snout well in before anyone noticed, carrying on and making people pet me at the vet’s when we dropped by to pick up the stomach meds prescribed as a result of finding piles of horse poop in dark Central Park tunnels and getting my snout well in before anyone noticed, pilfering an unused roll of toilet paper to add to my toy pile in retaliation for Elizabeth leaving me alone during the day-- and so much more that it is impossible to recount it all.  I love fall. My humans not so much.
And I ran into my cop buddies from the ASPCA on Sunday and in addition to being great human beings and saving animals they are also great admirers of my vocal stylings and apparently travel with bags full of snacks that they are inclined to liberally disperse to worthy canines such as myself.

Then Monday was of course Columbus Day and l, like Columbus, have made many important discoveries:

The refrigerator
The contents of the refrigerator
The laundry bin
The garbage bin
The bed
The couch
Elizabeth’s neighbor’s doodle
Maria’s neighbor’s cat
Central Park
Friendly natives who have never seen anything like me and want to give me gifts

Well I am going to end it here for now.  I am staying over with Elizabeth tonight owing to the fact that Maria has no heat in her apartment and my comfort is of paramount importance.  And an overnight visit with Elizabeth entails many urgent activities as you can well imagine.  So can she.

Until next time,

Wimsey, Tanqueray’s Favorite Houseguest


Bentley said...

You've been a busy hound indeed! Keep up the good work.

Anonymous said...

Such a good hound! Just like my Boy Beauregard.

Extended stay hotel manhattan said...

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