I finally got around to updating my biking stats (but not the Google Earth tracks—Garmin changed their XML format and I haven't written a converter yet). I discovered, to my surprise, that I got a new personal record on May 27th: 40 km in 1:22:15, which is an average speed of 29.2 km/h. This bested my previous record by 23 seconds. Cool.

Also, today's ride took me up to Cicada Central. Wow. I only had two collisions (and only one cicada fatality), but the sound was worth the trip.

On the other hand, the abysmal heat (33°C) was not.

Parker is officially[1] one year old today.

From a long-time blog reader, a court decision that...well, just read it: http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/years/2007/0601071beatles1.html.

Fred, one of the dogs Parker knew from the morning group in the park, died from cancer last night. Fred was ornery towards other dogs but really sweet towards people. His owner reports Fred would have been 14 today.

At what point in Parker's cat-like tormenting of a junebug should I take the insect away from him? Apparently they're not very tasty, and they seem to fight back.

I never thought I'd actually have these kinds of questions before I got the dog. Odd.

I forgot to mention how Parker is feeling. The antibiotics (only one of which had to be re-inserted in his food after he spat it out) seem to have done their job. Of course, on the way to visit his friends Sam and Hershey last night, he got to eat his dinner a second time. (Yeah, ew.)

Here's the problem: there is no effective way to keep him from eating rabbit poop. He will get another crypto infection; and he'll have to be on heartworm pills year-round to prevent hookworm. He's not likely to grow out of it, either. But at least now that it looks almost certainly like parasitic infections and not something with his own plumbing, I can start re-introducing him to non-prescription dog food next week, and I don't need to worry as much about him eating sticks.

Finally, I promise, really I do, to post about other topics over the weekend.

Yeah, you the dog:

Today is the 40th anniversary of the Supreme Court's decision in Loving v. Virginia, which established that the 14th Amendment prevents states from prohibiting inter-racial marriages. So I found it mildly amusing when my real-estate agent told me another agent had asked her "who lives in [your] building." That question isn't Kosher for the same reasons Virginia's miscegenation laws weren't.

I just spent two hours removing blog spam. I hate these guys.

I like rodents, generally. As a kid I had gerbils. My college roommate Sean's wife raises angora rabbits. They're fuzzy, small, and the subject of cartoons we all grew up with.

Rabbits, however, carry Cryptosporidium canis, a single-celled protozoan that causes bad butt. Parker, garbage dog that he is, finds rabbit poop as delicious as any other kind, and so he managed to give himself a lovely infection that has now cost me almost $100. (This figure includes the $10 the trainer charged me for cleaning up his dining room when Parker shared the experience with the entire day camp.)

You know, I feel bad for Parker, but I think somehow his life (and mine) would be more comfortable if he didn't eat rabbit poop. Now if only he had a working memory and could understand English...

I need a caption for this:

From Christopher Hitchens: "What can be asserted without evidence can also be dismissed without evidence."

Warm morning, park, big stick. Parker is happy: