It was another pleasant evening out at the bluffs. Many big dogs were present, as well as some smaller ones.
I thought I was doing a pretty good job of interacting.
But somehow these situations always get away from me. Once again I ended up watching forlornly as the other dogs cavorted and played without me.
Another day, another weight loss walk. A luta continua. Last weekend the agenda was a long staircase walk in Silver Lake and the Angelino Heights area -- Walk # 12 in the Fleming Secret Stairs book.
We started out at Echo Park Lake. There were some ducks there, although I did not find them all that fascinating.
I encountered a dog on Laveta Terrace.
But the high point of the walk was our exposure to the homes in and around Angelino Heights.
We saw several lovely Craftsman houses, and a lot of Victorian homes.
On Carroll Avenue, we encountered a Japanese tourist come to pay homage to the house, shown at right, that appears in the Michael Jackson "Thriller" video. (Photo from laist blog.)
My favorite property, however, was neither Victorian nor Craftsman, but Spanish, and it was not located in the center of the Angelino Heights neighborhood but rather on the outskirts, on Kensington Road near Laveta Terrace. It is actually two houses, fronting on an incredible cactus garden.
You can see me posing there with Teresa in the photo above.
Seventy-five people, including the fire department, gathered at the bluff this morning to await the arrival of the tsunami wave generated by Japan's terrible earthquake.
The expected time came and went but the wave did not appear. Finally, everyone went home.
One of my favorite books -- Robert the Rose Horse, by Joan Heilbroner -- details the struggles of an unemployed horse. I often ponder the poignant words of Robert, the protagonist:
Fathers had work.
Mothers had work.
Every one had some kind of work.
But there were not many jobs for a horse.
Robert's words resonate with me. Options for a fluffy dog, particularly in this economy, are limited.
So I was intrigued to read "Pets Help Sell Manhattan Apartments" in the New York Times two weeks ago. The article outlined an opportunity that seems tailor-made for a cute dog such as myself: providing charm, warmth, and character to seduce prospective buyers of properties up for sale.
I have heard of similar schemes where, for example, college men rent a puppy to serve as a chick-magnet. But that sort of work seems a bit beneath me. Here I feel I'd be more directly contributing to the GNP.
Is it outlandish to expect that the prospect of a dog snoozing on the couch could increase buyer perception of a home's value by 20% or more?
We have a new fresh approach to exercise, replacing last year's fresh approach.
This one recognizes and addresses the Achilles heel of exercising locally: the difficulty I have in walking away from my home. I keep stopping and refusing to go further, in the hope that this silent protest might convince my owner to turn around.
Under the new regime, she puts me in the car and drives me to our exercise spot. This practice both leverages my enthusiasm for car rides and neutralizes my homing instinct, since, similar to a blindfolded hostage, I am disoriented and have no idea how to get home.
Our itinerary today was Venice, for an entertaining canal walk.
(We couldn't take a boat ride because all the boats in the canals are individually owned by canal residents.)
I saw ducks,
classy residences,
and threatening residents.
All in all, I had a great time. Although I am not ashamed to be a traditionally-built dog, I fancied I could feel some of my bulk melting off.
When I went out to the bluffs yesterday I was pleased to see a ballet production unfolding.
It's well known that I am an active patron of the arts.
For some reason, though, this performance did not completely captivate me.
Truthfully, I was in a bit of a rush to get back home and watch the NBA All Star game.
We went to pick up some new eyeglasses at Society of the Spectacle.
I was prepared to have to wait outside, but this turned out to be an emporium very friendly to those of my ilk. The resident dog -- Violet by name -- welcomed me and actually brought out one of her toys to share.
It was a fun outing for me. And the glasses looked good, too.
On the way home I rested and reflected on Violet's generous nature.
Can't quite figure out where to keep your rawhide in between busy play sessions?
Try this handy storage tip: Keep the rawhide in a shoe in your main sitting area.
This way, when you feel like gnawing on it, it will be easy to locate and close at hand.
