The Great White One

When I lived in Greenwich Village in New York City, there was a great big white dog that I would see on a side street, maybe 4th and 11th, sitting on the top stair of a brownstone, on a leash that was connected to the doorknob INSIDE.

There he could enjoy the breeze and watch the people go by, but would not get away. A good solution for a large and gentle dog. Apartments are small for the most part in the village, and it can be hard on large dogs. And backyards are few, so here he was. And he became a mascot in my mind.

So on my last visit in June, I was sitting in Le Pain Quotidien on Hudson and I saw him! I leapt out of my seat and ran out to get a picture for my own sake. He's got to be seen to be appreciated. A happy face, no? And somehow he manages to stay snow white in this city. A very special dog indeed (possibly a very special groomer too).


And a second snap of him in all his largeness (pls. Click on the pic to enlarge). He's just about the size of those bicycles behind him, but this angle doesn't do his stature justice.

It was cool this day, but I remember seeing him on sweltering days and thought, "How does he handle the heat with all that hair?"And so, it was time to say so long to my very furry friend, for now at least. I'm so glad I caught him on film... otherwise he'd just be a memory. .

I have no idea as to his breed and have been looking on the internet to no avail. It's probably just easier to ask you -- do you know what he is?

Dainty-poo

On the streets of New York, the police do their job by car, on foot, via bicycle and helicopter... and on horseback. Adding to the endless paradoxes found in this city, on occasion one sees, smells or steps in things that one would expect in a farm field but certainly not in a wildly opposite place like the neon and LED laden Times Square.

What drew me to take this pic was not so much that, but the subtler contrast of these dainty stances among the muck.

Partial View

In New York, you often get your view blocked by crowds, trucks, other buildings... And scaffolding everywhere.

You make do. You do this so well, you start to forget there is even an obstacle there.

This kitty is a New Yorker, for sure.

Nesting

I've never before seen a squirrel in the process of building a nest. Have you?

I haven't even seen a nest until recently. After feeding so many orphans post- hurricane Ike, I started to look for where they'd been flung from during the storm. It was a bad time to look, since almost no leaf nests would have survived the 110 MPH winds, but I did see what I imagined was one.

Then I noticed that there were far more little knobby holes in tree trunks than I'd realized (I guess I thought that was something that only happened in fairie forests or animated films). I've been astonished to see little gray heads sticking out of those when I looked. What timing! That kind of crib I can understand. It has sturdy walls, and a roof to shelter babies from the elements and to stay secure and comfy once grown.

But the other option amazes me -- a large nest suspended between two frail external limbs, woven in some crazy pattern with mere twigs and leaves, done one tiny mouthful at a time. Even birds nests seem comparatively tighter and somehow glued together.

This takes great industry and dedication.

We were strolling Central Park and I was amazed that I hadn't seen one squirrel. Just as we were leaving I saw one digging in a little pile of debris by a barren bush. I watched her scamper up the nearest tree and go all the way to the top, then hop to the next tree and run all the way down to one of those twigggy nests...

Working quickly, she came back again to the patch of leaves by the bush and began to gather what she deemed to be suitable materials in her mouth. I whipped out my digital camera and caught a little bit of it.

She continued up this tree to the skinniest, top-most branches which wobbled under her feather weight, deflty skipped across again to an equally frail branch at the top of the next tree, navigated down a network of barren branches to add them to the complicated little nursery she was building.

It was so cold out, and only January 2. How could tiny, vulnerable babies survive and thrive in this kind of cold? How could twigs and leaves possibly hold in strong winds as perched here? How can a one pregnant little she-squirrel perform this arduous task? Apparently they do and it and she does.

It's all one big miracle to me!