Day Eighteen - Update Two

Where do all the porn stars go
When the lights go down?
I think I know where all the porn stars go
They all become Volvo-driving soccer moms

This is the 50th post. A fine conclusion to an experiment in dog-sitting 2.0. We've also taken 176 photos since we got the camera on Friday - almost all of them involving Layla, somehow.

Bath-time! Turns out Everclear is great for bathing dogs to.

Layla watches me take things into the bathroom. She doesn't seem to work out that something is weird until she is added at the end of that list.



And it goes down-hill pretty much entirely from there.



I learned that, as much as she doesn't like having water splashed on her, she likes the shower even less. She seemed to appreciate being held under it in mid-air even less. Huh.

Rinse cycle.





Why is my leg always in there?





Interference.

Dry cycle.



Dry cycle, stage two.





I will say this; she's the least-problem-causing long-haired dog I've ever brushed. She's quite hard to hold, being small, but she doesn't cry, yelp or bite. So that is a plus. Also one can just hold her with one hand while combing through the hair on her rear legs.



She retires to the bed while I vacuum and mop the apartment free, a final time, of all the crap her crap-magnet-polymer fur has brought into the apartment (the usual problem has been brushing her, only to have her come back in 20 minutes with things in her fur, without leaving the apartment. We can't vacuum after every bloody walk, for heaven's sake).

I don't know how she's interpreting not being booted off the bed for the first time in over two weeks, but she hasn't left it yet.

Day Eighteen

Kick back watch it crumble
See the drowning, watch the fall
I feel just terrible about it
That's sarcasm, let it burn

I'm gonna make a toast when it falls apart
I'm gonna raise my glass above my heart
Then someone shouts "That's what they get!"

Welcome to the morning of the last walk on Earth.



We went to Riverside



The new panorama software that came with the camera (Arcsoft) is as good as I remember it being.

Past the still-completely-scaffolding-clad church up the hill






And on into the park.



This is Layla hoping for another squirrel to be stupid enough to come loping up the hill towards us while we stand there and wait for the best opportunity to strike.



This is an ant I found while waiting (still getting the hang of the macro settings).



This has got to be one of the least-obeyed rules in the park



Interesting thing: if you scale-up the panoramic shot, above, you'll see that there are two sets of paved paths, running parallel. On the smaller one, immediately next to it, is a trail formed by runners who realise that running on cement is worse than on ground.



Given that I think running is a terrible fitness activity and I do dislike people who press down formed trails when paving already exists, I'm not a fan of the practice. It's interesting, though, to observe some people running it while other run on the other path (which is wider, smoother, in the sun). New York is nothing without its variety. I think I'll miss the parks, somewhat - although their value is only found relative to the scale of the city itsef, so who knows.

Squirrels are tough when they're behind fences, we learned.



Not so tough when the fence stops.



Why's he all the way up there? Because Layla chased him up there. And very pleased with herself she was.

Since when did hopscotch go to twelve?



Inflation is really getting out of hand here.

Sadly, even though it a hurrah of the last sort, Layla did not make it.



I carried her most of the way back - but I did get the chance to watch a tug turn about a tanker, while I waited for her to recover (no photos. I wished I'd noticed it at the start, and filmed it). Layla is not to be criticised too heavily, though: we took an extra-long walk (to save Olivia and Lucas too much work when they return later today).