Sick as a dog (hound)

Hi everyone. It's Bernie coming to you from roasting hot Silver Spring (the "spring" has long dried up, I think). Anyway, there was some hound-induced drama at the end of the week, when I caught a nasty bug--probably from something I ate at the park during my long grazing sprees. The humans think I'm part cow, but I do not want to contemplate the further implications of that analogy. Anyway, I got sick and then became really lethargic. I was promptly whisked to the v-e-t, where the techs loved on me while giving me fluids and medicine. You should have heard them in the back--"he's part cocker spaniel--can you believe that???" Yes dear vet-techs, DNA does not lie.


Even E-kitty was worried about me and had a sympathy hairball (the human was thrilled).

Anyway, one of the humans stayed home with me on Friday and was very worried since I just lay there not moving. After shoving another pill down my throat, I started to get better and managed to eat some chicken and rice. Later on in the afternoon, I got up and had a good bark at the fed-ex man, so it was clear that I was on the mend. Anyway, later on Friday evening, the humans discovered why it had taken a while for me to get better--I had spat my first pill out on the sofa and hid it (yuck!). We hounds are very smart indeed. In fact, I'm so smart that I'm refusing to eat my kibble--the chicken and rice was YUM! The humans are NOT amused.



Anyway, I advise my fellow hounds to be careful about what they eat outside.

Bernie, pill-spitter-upper extraordinaire

The humans visit Wimsey

Well, my humans left me with my favorite uncle a few weeks ago. I was a bit upset, but it was for a good cause--they went to visit Wimsey--the spectacular bloodhound who rules New York's upper west side. In a bit less than 24 hours, there was much baying, bottle crunching, pizza eating, and, of course, a Wimsey-guided tour of Central Park. It seems that Wimsey is as impressive a sniffer as I am and took his time inhaling the scents of the park.

My male human Paul had never met Wimsey before and he was duly impressed. He was well trained--making the customary plastic bottle offering to Sir.

Anyway, later that night, a pizza offering was also made, which the Great Hound enjoyed immensely. He was so grateful, in fact, that he sat on Paul!

I wish the humans got ME pizza!
And no blog post would be complete without a display of the wondrous Wimsey wrinkle.
Of course, I was very happy when the humans returned. A-roo!