quasify

The dog seems to have survived her seven hours in the American Airlines gulag well. There’s no visible physical and minor psychological damage (we’ll be able to work through that in counseling). We got in late last night and (your bed vs my bed issues aside) have been getting along pretty well, sorting out our respective positions with regards to the new living situation. I say I’m the boss, she says someone who claims to be the boss should be able to shut off the damn heat. I’m also re-remembering why I like the forced mobility of having a puppy all over again. Today we walked a prospective running route down through Golden Gate Park, past a buffalo pen that eventually will provide material for a better cross-over post tagged both as charasmatic megafauna and urban wildlife. We also found a pretty cheap nine hole public golf course on the other side of the buffalo (key phrase with ambiguous interpretation: Alcohol must be purchased on premises). Then on to Ocean Beach where we ran into a two hundred person mob of what must have been a yappy dog meetup (none taller than six inches allowed?). My peoples are not so organized yet. All in all a good day #1. Tomorrow, The Presidio!