We are all anti-Fascists. Including Pixel, whose posterior appears in the foreground. Milan, 9/23.

Wildlife in the giftshop. Ben Gurion Airport, 11/5/09.

This is Raster. He’s a three-year old miniature schnauzer. Abandoned by his owners, I found him in a cage at our dog groomers’ office last May. We adopted him not long thereafter.

Three weeks ago, Raster started licking his left paw on a more-than-regular basis. As the days progressed, he’d attack a particular, nondescript spot with increasing intensity.

Eventually, Jennifer and I became concerned, and decided to take Raster to the vet, where, after shaving his paw, the doctor discovered two deep, highly infected holes.

“It looks like your dog was bitten by a snake,” the veterinarian concluded. “Don’t you live in the city?” he asked, scratching his head.

Relieved that we finally knew what had happened to the little guy, Jennifer and I both sighed and replied “Yes,” giggling in response to the totally unexpected diagnosis.

“Bernal Heights, to be precise,” I told our physician. “From what we understand, there are snakes crawling throughout the neighborhood.”

Judy considers buying a copy of Final Scratch. In my studio, May ’07.

Shoutout from the Old Country.

Just before daybreak, our eldest dog, Dolph, passed away. He was twelve. Though Dolph suffered from numerous longterm ailments such as Cushings Disease, the cause was congestive heart failure.

Dolph did not have an easy life. Found wandering around San Francisco’s Lower Haight neighborhood in the Spring of 2006, we adopted him, and spent the better part of the past year becoming family.

Abused and neglected, bearing an unfathomable number of bladder stones (25, or so our veterinarian told us), records indicated he was abandoned by someone who’d recently moved up here from San Diego.

I have no qualms about stating that the last twelve months were the best of Dolph’s life. Despite the threats he continued to face, Dolph held them at bay for as long as he could. And, for a short time, was truly happy.

Needless to say, this is a real fucking tear-jerker.

Jennifer and Pixel, Calistoga, March 2006