Dorky Hell Hound loves walking in the harsh winter light.
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Dorky Hell Hound loves walking in the harsh winter light.
Stop trying to use your psychic powers on me and just hang out with your dad, who wants to hang out with you, unlike your mom, who wants to hang out with her laptop and wine.
Me, just now, to my greyhound.
Yesterday's walk in Glendinning rock garden, of which no rock garden could be found. There was a minor stream / pond, and then the doorway up some very steep crumbling slate steps up the cliff. Dozens of spidering paths along the edge of the cliff looking down to Kelly drive. The previously mentioned hobo fires and railroad tracks.
Not pictured: the strangers having sex.
Dorky Hell Hound and I went walking around the lake down at FDR park this afternoon. We drove there, but depending on how the baby behaves inside, it's not unthinkable to walk down and do the whole park. It was a rather mild walk, but as you can tell by his ears, he clearly had a good time.
Trying to get out and walk as much in nearby nature. Had a rough go yesterday. I was a bit traumatized by the location I tried in Fairmount. Ran into people having public sex straight away in the woods, barely off the trail, fully naked, and then a very trashed path, even for Philly. An unusually high number of hobo fire pits, and every trail I took hit the railroad tracks fairly quickly. Made me feel uneasy for popping off on my own. Pup enjoyed it though.
The people in parks during the week are a strange lot. Sleeping in public, on benches, sprawled in the grass. Kids skipping school and fishing alongside an old man. Someone flying a drone. Lone men parked in cars in secluded places. A bunch of goombas arguing about a bike being stolen. Old men getting high and watching the squirrels. The occasional lone runner.
All the Philly parks are imbued with the nagging feeling of what used to be. The past is inescapable in them - they never just are as they are now, they alway make you think back on to what they were, 50 or 100 years ago; how glorious they must have been, rather than the unkempt, decaying, and defaced shadows of their former selves they are now.
In case you're wondering, the Dorky Hell Hound is not calmly sleeping next to me. He's squirming and farting and having stank breath. So.
Writing thank you notes on the couch with the Dorky Hell Hound. 14 down, 7-to-9 left to go, depending on if I want to send one to my Godmom to told me on the phone not to bother at Dude I Married's cousin in Alabama who was part of a group present from the Georgian relatives who already got a card. I'm feeling hella squirms and mad acid reflux, but I can't write on the ball or at the table so basically this is the least uncomfortable position.
I want to make an omelet but the Dorky Hell Hound is sleeping on his bed with one paw stretched out to lay on top of my foot and then he just moved his head to lay on my foot and how can I move now?
Guys. I did 5k with the dorky hell hound yesterday, and long story short, he caught a squirrel, and I screamed a lot, and the squirrel was fine, but my pup had a mouth full of fur.