dogs

at the dog park again. today there were these two black german shepherds with a photographer and a couple other people. theyd been there before like that. another dog walker told me the girl with them, sort of awkward teenager, diffident about ordering the dogs, was the daughter of bruce davis, one of those lawyers advertising on late night tv. they're his dogs, apparently. they're beautiful dogs, so physically masterful. one of them was kept leashed because when they're romping together they team up and it's too much. the leashed one squealed horribly, "the shepherd squeal," i was told. it seemed appropriate to me that it made those horrible noises because i'd been so awed up to that moment at the straight up perfection of the dog. it outran, out-handsomed, jumped, and muscled every other dog. with the ball in its mouth, it would let it fall as it trotted to then nip it back up, elegant as a tennis player using their racket because they can't be bothered to bend over to pick something up. it invented a dashing little game for itself! so of course it whined horribly.



im not excited about anything right now. need something to be excited about.


there was this absolutely horrible woman at the little dog park, shrieking at the cuteness of everything. she had a 9/11 conspiracy t shirt but was otherwise a pretty, super normal looking 5th avenue apartment building type person. she was so, so horrible.