The Daily Parker

Politics, Weather, Photography, and the Dog

Yesterday's Daily Parker

I've finally reviewed the ParkerCam archives from yesterday. Curse my metal body, I wasn't fast enough: he popped less than 15 minutes before I got home. Though, poor guy, I think this photo says everything that needs saying about how he felt right before it happened:

So far, only a minor improvement, so I might just have to take a little baggie to the vet tomorrow afternoon. Oh, the joys of dog ownership.

Today's Daily Parker

I feel bad for Parker, even though I just spent the last hour and a quarter cleaning up. Remember the "bad butt" incident? Apparently his butt is still bad, because when I got home this evening I realized what had happened as soon as I stuck my nose into my apartment.

I won't go into details, except to say that one of the most effective techniques I've found for cleaning paw-sized stains from carpets is to fill a small bowl with warm water and dish detergent, then use a tablespoon to scrape the stain in all four cardinal directions. The ironic effect of this is that there are now several spots in my bedroom and living room that are visibly cleaner than the rest of the carpet. Another ironic effect: his bed is soon to be cleaner than it's been in months.

Also, I should mention, it's literally freezing outside, so my apartment is now down to 10°C and I'm wearing a jacket. (All the windows are wide open.)

Parker has a vet appointment for Friday afternoon, if his, um, condition doesn't improve before then. Plus, he's on rice and cottage cheese until then (see photo), which he seems to like. Also, I'll be able to stop home and let him out every four hours or less for the rest of the week (in addition to his regular walks at 1pm).

Poor little guy. What a pain in the...yeah.


People who live outside Chicago may not believe this: Yesterday's high temperature was 21°C; right now, it's -1°C. Who knows what tomorrow will look like.

Today's Daily Parker

Trust me, you're better off without a photo today.

My dog-walking service leaves notes every day. Today's: "Looks like he ate something he shouldn't have. He had some real bad butt. #2, treat."

Poor little guy. He woke up around 2 in the morning and had to go outside, too. Right now, though, he's rolling on the floor pleading, in his doggy way, that I now take him to the play group. I will bring extra bags.

Nariv Kennedy Lives!

I meant to mention one other great thing about San Francisco: Kennedy's Irish Pub and Curry House, at 1040 Columbus Ave., right where the Powell-Mason cable car line ends. It had everything I could ever dream of in a place to park myself for hours: dozens of microbrews, a great bartender (Max McLean), outdoor seating (the back patio overlooks the cable car terminus; the front, busy Columbus Ave. in North Beach), and tasty dal makhani.

I went there Thursday and Friday afternoons, sat in the sun, drank some beer, ate some curry, and fought off some of the most aggressive pigeons I've ever encountered. (Max told me pigeons are a protected species in San Francisco. This is probably not true, but I still hesitated before swatting one off my book. Imagine the scene below with a pigeon perched on the cover, pecking at my naan: that's what I discovered upon returning from the washroom.)

If they only had WiFi, and if Parker had been with me, I might never have come home.