Thursday, November 7, 2013

Happy Dogs, Scientifically Speaking

From http://www.smithsonian.com   this essay about the emotions that dogs may feel. At this stage it is all conjecture but it's conjecture whose conclusions thus far I like (!). So I am reproducing the paper here, to support my theory that letting my dog choose where and how to walk is good for her mental health. She seems happy, I enjoy her company and the vet says she is doing very well for a Labrador of her advanced years.

For the first few decades of his career, Emory neuroscientist Gregory Berns studied the human mind. Using fMRI technology, which tracks the flow of blood to different areas of the brain, he sought to find correlations between people’s internal mental patterns and their real-world behaviors, decisions and preferences. Then, in 2011, he took on a new object of neuroscientific study: Canis lupus familiaris, otherwise known as the domesticated dog.

Instead of merely studying canine behavior, as has been done for years, he and his colleagues began scrutinizing the internal architecture and patterns of dogs’ brains, using the same tools they rely on to better understand the brains of humans. “I’ve always been a dog person, and when my dog died, a pug named Newton, it planted a seed in my mind,” says Berns, who published a new book on his recent work, How Dogs Love Us, last week. “It got me wondering about how dogs view their relationship with us—if he had loved me the same way I had loved him.”

Just looking inside inside the canine brain, however, posed a formidable challenge: Getting an accurate fMRI reading means that the subject has to stay almost perfectly still, moving less than a millimeter from one moment to the next. Using anesthesia or restraining the dogs would ruin the experiments, producing an image of an unconscious or anxious dog instead of a comfortable, alert one. To solve the problem, Berns recruited dogs from the local community—starting with a dog he adopted after Newtown died—and gradually trained them to climb up a series of steps into a table, rest their head on a pad inside the fMRI’s inner tunnel and sit still for 30 seconds at a time as the machine does its work.

To deal with the device’s noise (which can surpass 95 decibels, equivalent to the sound of a jackhammer 50 feet away), they taped earmuffs to the dogs’ heads and piped in ambient noise over loudspeakers, so instead of the machine’s sound beginning abruptly, it gradually arrived over background noises. In total, they’ve successfully trained about a dozen dogs to voluntarily participate in their studies. The research is still in its preliminary stages, but as Berns’ team begins to scratch the surface of the canine brain, they’re finding something surprising—in several ways, its activity mirrors that of the human brain to a much greater extent than expected.

As part of their first paper published on the work in 2012, they trained dogs to recognize two different hand signals: one that meant the animal would be given a piece of hot dog imminently, and one that meant no hot dog. As they hypothesized, the first signal triggered elevated activity in an area called the caudate nucleus, which is rich in receptors for dopamine (a neurotransmitter involved in the sensation of pleasure). In humans—and in dogs, the research indicated—caudate activity is related to the desire to have something that causes pleasure, and the satisfaction involved in obtaining it. Subsequent work revealed more unexpected findings.

As part of a second experiment, they had dogs sit in the scanner and exposed them to smells of humans (from either their owners or strangers) and other dogs (from either dogs they lived with or unfamiliar dogs). “We wanted to understand how dogs recognize other people and dogs in their households,” Berns says. Again, they saw increased activity in the caudate, but only as a result of one of the scents. “In this case, the reward system only seems to activate in response to the smell of a familiar human, which is pretty amazing,” he says. To further probe how the dogs’ brain activity correlates with the actions of humans they know well, they put the dogs in the fMRI and had their owners leave the room, then walk back in.

This, too, triggered activation in the caudate. Berns interprets these results as indications that, in some ways, the mental processes of dogs may not be so different from those of humans. They’re close enough, he suggests, that we can safely describe them with words we don’t often apply to animals: the mental activity represents emotions, and perhaps even constitute love. “At some fundamental level, we believe the dogs are experiencing emotions something like we do,” Berns says. He admits that the idea is controversial. But, he points out, the research suggests that the human brain and canine brain aren’t as radically different as we might have imagined.

“Obviously, dog brains are much smaller, and they don’t have as much cortex as we do, but some of the core areas around the brainstem—the basal ganglia, which the caudate nucleus is part of—look very much like those in humans,” he says. Dogs might not have the hardware necessary for complex thoughts and higher-level reasoning, the thinking goes, but they do have the relevant structures for basic emotions. This also makes sense from an evolutionary perspective: We evolved the heavily folded cortex necessary for high-level thinking after we diverged from all other animal species, but areas like the basal ganglia developed beforehand, so it follows that our ability to feel emotions produced by those areas existed way back in our evolutionary history, in ancestors that we share with many other mammals, including dogs.

Dog lovers mind find these ideas obvious, but Berns’ work has attracted a fair amount of criticism. One of the biggest complaints is against his use of words like emotion and love for dogs—their attachment to us is simply a result of conditioning, some say, entirely based on the desire for food, rather than the deeper emotional connections we feel for other humans.

But Berns hopes to respond with future fMRI work, which will compare brain activity in dogs being fed by automated mechanisms with that of dogs being fed by humans. He hopes to show that dogs do develop qualitatively different relationships with humans, underscoring the strength of those attachments. He took his ideas to what some might call as a rather extreme conclusion earlier this month in the New York Times, in an op-ed he penned with a provocative headline: Dogs Are People, Too.

If animals truly are capable of emotions we normally consider characteristically human, he argued, they should no longer be treated as mere objects, or property, but instead be given some of the rights we associate with personhood—namely, a respect for their preferences and well-being that would lead to the abolition of things like puppy mills and dog racing. There’s obviously a long way to go—both in terms of scientific evidence and policy changes—before dogs are treated anything like people.

But Berns cites a recent Supreme Court decision that invoked neuroscientific evidence (specifically, the finding that the juvenile brain is less developed than a mature adult’s, and thus should not be subject to the same punishments) as an indication that our laws will inevitably follow the science. The next step, then, is for he and his colleagues to keep peering into the minds of dogs, finding out how deeply the mental similarities truly go.

Posted By: Joseph Stromberg — Biology,Mammals,Psychology

How To Keep Your Dog Happy

Bill Butler Park early in the morning. That's how Cheyenne likes it when Daddy has a day off and nowhere particular to be.
Not all dogs get the attention Cheyenne gets, not,all dogs live indoors either.
This guy lives in the yard of a crumbling house off an alley between Elizabeth street and Bill Butler Park. Cheyenne has the winning personality that wins over prisoners too. Not really but sometimes she deigns them with a friendly sniff through the bars of their captivity.
Checking out the cat food bowl and finding it empty. Had it been full I'd have engaged in a tug of war but my dog will not be denied food if she thinks she can get away with it. The vet gave her a check up and pronounced her in excellent health for her age, almost 13 I think. She has been showing some signs of limping but we increased the dose of the magic pill I can't spell (con droit something) and as usual Dr Edie was right and Cheyenne is walking like a puppy again.
It's bloody difficult to keep her slim with her constant pursuit of nourishment. Almost as grotesque as people who ride scooters and then park them like this, which is a big fat fail.
And when not meeting caged dogs or eating cat food one lies in a puddle for refreshment. Remember this is the Southernmost City and it's still hitting eighty five degrees daily in November.
The thing about walking Cheyenne is I get to see stuff and I get to ponder stuff so while I'm keeping her happy I am amusing myself. See the Eden House and therefore think of Goldie Hawn. Good movie.
I asked my wife where would she live if she had money enough to choose anywhere. She got lost in thought for quite a while and when I had forgotten about the question she asked if money was going to be an issue in her mythical new home. Not at all I said magisterially and she thought about it a bit more. So then I could travel anywhere I felt,like from my home she asked as though I had the power to actually make all this real. Sure I said. Well she said I think I'd stay right here. Your can see why.
Here's a Key West conundrum. We got as far as I was letting Cheyenne get from the car to prevent total exhaustion and we passed the Stock Island Produce shop which is located on Whitehead Street in Key West. Why it's called that I couldn't say. Do they grow produce for export from Stock Island?
I do enjoy walking my dog. What a dweeb.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Key Plaza Creperie

Key West needs more restaurants! Not really but eating out is a regional sport around here and entrepreneurs always think their best idea will catch on so let there be no surprise there is a new eatery in Key Plaza, next to the well established local Big John's Pizza. The Key Plaza Creperie is a different kind of place altogether.
Whe. We walked in we got that slight Alice Through The Lookinglass feel of having entered another world, a place of 1960s piped music, soft lighting and absolutely NO Televisions! This is dining for adults in the middle of New Town, three miles from Duval and eminently worth the scooter ride, even for adventurous tourists among us.
I had to go to work so alcohol was off though they had what looked to be an interesting and unusual selection of Russian beers. Next time....meanwhile we shared a cheese plate and look at the presentation.
Where was the red wine we hadn't ordered? Salty feta, smooth manchego and soft waxy Gouda with shaved almonds, crumbled pecans and cranberries and a sweet salty dipping sauce. The waiter timed it just right and have us a decent pause before showing up with two bowls of bow tie pasta (known as little butterflies in Italian farfalline).
My wife had heard about the pasta actually handmade on the premises and she had her mind on that even before we arrived. So I passed up their crepe and sandwich menu and joined her on the pasta order. I had plain tomato and garlic while my wife had the salmon pasta. We also got three bowls of almond flour, sweet breadcrumbs and Parmesan.
I tasted my wife's dish and couldn't stop going back for more nibbles. Salmon on pasta sounds odd though my Roman cousin in an effort to sophisticate me introduced me years ago to caviar pasta, one of the world's great mixed blessings. This was less salty, less fishy and altogether perfect. Next time... A note for people who think Italian noodles should flow rubber-like as water winding softly along a rocky stream bed, because these noodles are hard and almost crunchy and filled with texture, as Italinas eat them.
In Key West one spends a lot of time hoping good restaurants last through the summer, and this place has been building word of mouth this summer, so among locals it's noted as not cheap but not pricy and good value for the money. Their creeps are said to be remarkable. And if you are a vegetarian this place offers real alternatives to the roast vegetable plate of those chefs lacking imagination as they seem quite flexible with their ingredients. Key Plaza Creperie - Restaurant in Key West, FL also has a fabulously sensible web page which incorporates everything you need right on the front page, location and hours with other pages available including a look at the menu.
Because I had to work and couldn't have my sugar in liquid form I struck out boldly and ordered a Napoleon for pudding but they were out, to my wife' see lied. Strange woman isn't fond of layers of pastry and custard two of the essential food groups but she liked the cannoli alternative whose crisp outside with spots of honey belied the soft not too sweet inside.
Yup. I think we'll be back.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Slingin' Steel Rockett

Cheyenne and I were happily minding our own business walking the combined pedestrian bike path in Big Pine. Suddenly a screeching sound behind us brought us to a quick stop. How's it going said the young man who stepped gracefully off his skateboard, strolled barefoot through the gravel around us elderly plodders and took off. He flew gracefully along, dressed only in shorts, Tadzio to my Von Aschenbach, and as he swept along silently I thought to myself I'll bet he's got a story to tell. And he did, what a story.
I have been a wanderer all my life, something that many people find admirable in a way thy defies explanation to me. While it is certainly true that my travels have been inspired by a healthy curiosity but also by a search for something that was missing in my life. To come across an eighteen year old completely certain of his place in the world, his future and the pursuit of his fulfillment in it, is quite remarkable. Steel Rockett is a genius in his field, the Amadeus of the Aqualung, the Shakespeare of the Slingshot and he was born and grew up on Big Pine Key. "I went to the Adirondacks once," he said pondering his desire to learn to hunt on land. "But I don't like big cities, I like being apart." His apartness takes him deep underwater into regions of narcosis and death.
He learned to dive when he was a toddler and has been hunting food, and thus money all his life. He likes to ride Hammerhead sharks as they have a large dorsal fin which makes them easy to hold on to. His largest and most fearsome kill is an eleven foot Tiger Shark though he remembers a fight with a bull shark I think it was, five spears to the forehead and still not dead yet badly pissed off. "He scraped my arm," he said with a grin, relishing life as he came close to losing it. I grinned feebly and said when I see sharks in the water I like to get out. "Sharks are like bears, show fear and they'll get you." I guess the difference between me and Steel is he's a predator and I am prey. I know my place. Sharks as endangered? Not to this young hunter.
 
When he talked about diving he asked me if I dived and I was glad to say I was qualified though not keen to deal with the numbers I cocked in staying safe. He noted that diving is a sport indulged in by people who want to be cool (that instantly excludes me!) and they get agitated when he breaks their rules, diving beyond supportable depths and coming back to tell the tale. What you get when you meet Steel is an opportunity to step,outside the realms of the normal. I guess that was what Diana Nyad managed by swimming from Cuba. This kid does it every day and makes a living at it and he does it with assurance. He doesn't drink alcohol, he gets high by going down deep, deep enough to make air a narcotic, such that at more than 200 feet down Steel has hallucinated the way most ordinary mortals might hope to get high in a Ricks bar.
I don't want fame he said on turning down an approach by MTV because they wanted to fake the diving drama. He has aspirations,does this well adjusted young man, to dive in places in the world he has heard of and never seen, to own his own home and a boat big enough to get far offshore. But young Steel is here and now exactly where he wants to be doing what he wants. His bus was coming, I wished him well which seemed inadequate considering how easily he peers into the abyss, and Cheyenne and I strolled away, she grateful for the rest and me wondering what good fortune is it to grow up knowing who you are. A humbling encounter indeed, and one I shall treasure as his elders and betters can do no better than fall down drunk on the sidewalk while I'm at work.

Monday, November 4, 2013

Conchscooter's Tour Of Key West


So now I'm going to do that which I never do which is I am going to try to be a tour guide. Let me get the caveats out of the way first. This is my view of a good day in Key West and you are entirely free to disagree, or better yet add useful suggestions. There are tons of things to do in town, lots of museums and attractions and I am just going to highlight a few, so don't go all postal on me and get pissed off that I didn't mention your Aunt Muriel's favorite martini bar. I have limited myself to Key West and Stock Island because most of you stay-at-homes don't come here to drive, though frankly I'd make a beeline to Sunshine Scooters on North Roosevelt, rent a Harley and bugger off up the Keys for a look at some other islands if I were visiting. We'll let that be for a another time. I recommend renting a scooter because they are more fun than a bicycle (down people, stay down), but a bike is fine if infernal combustion is too much for your vacation. Do not rent an electric car they are too slow to be fun and are awkward to park. You may have to modify the start of your tour if you don't have a scooter, or if you rent a scooter that doesn't allow Stock Island tours, and you feel like being honest and following their rules. Here goes nothing, and someone suppress the peanut gallery for me please.


Some people like to watch the sunrise from the White Street Pier and in winter the place gets positively crowded. I would go to Dead Man's Curve near the Key Ambassador hotel. It has that informal name because before they put fencing in place a few smart people, including motorcycles ridden by the imprudent, had a tendency to kill themselves running off the road into the water. http://conchscooter.blogspot.com/2009/09/sunrise.html All that notwithstanding it makes for a good place to watch the sun come up and you will usually see a tripod or three as eager photographers gather to capture the rising of the sun.
However you are here because you got up early left your hotel on your scooter (or bicycle) and rode here to see the sunrise on your way to:

The most authentic local's place left south of Mile Marker Five, El Mocho, Stock island's most secret Cuban diner. To eat here is to be among Spanish speakers, fishermen, construction workers, body shop techs and plumbers carpenters and manual laborers. http://conchscooter.blogspot.com/2008/10/el-mocho.html You want local? Look for the little red diner on Maloney Avenue and my phone has it in its GPS so in keeping with my tradition of unhelpful bloody mindedness you can find your own way there from here...and here is the el cheapo breakfast, yours for five bucks though you might prefer grits to the fried potato bloc. Grits is good. Cheese grits is better.

After breakfast and maybe a second con leche if you are feeling expansive you will proceed down Maloney, turning right at West Marine onto 4th Avenue then turning left on Front and riding all the way to the end. This ride gives you a view of the less luxurious accommodations available to the working classes that serve Key West and keep fashionable Old Town humming.http://conchscooter.blogspot.com/2010/09/downtown-stock-island.htmlWhen you get to the end of Front Street you will see the thatched roof of the Hogfish restaurant which hipster tourists think is off the beaten track but you have beaten them out of the ball park by having breakfast at El Mocho. Go for a walk on the docks and around the back. There are real life artisans here in their workshops, quaint floating homes and a sense of waterside peace and serenity you won't find elsewhere in these busy end-of the-road islands.
You can spend some time on Stock island if you want to check out the working classes or perhaps buy an illegal fighting rooster at Bernstein Park if any of the local kids have caught a rooster on their travels and want to unload it. On your w ay back to key West check out Hurricane Hole on the south side of Highway One just on the Stock Island side of the bridge into Key West. You could come back to Hurricane Hole for a drink in the evening if you want a waterside meal away from the sunset crowds.
On your way to the cemetery if you take scenic South Roosevelt you will pass the East Martello Tower which is a fine little museum exhibiting some interesting connections to Cuba with Key West. And if that tickles your fancy head down or up Flagler to the area of 7th Street where you will see a walk in clinic which marks Government Road which heads south off Flagler to Little Hamaca Park. Government Road is in my GPS and runs behind the airport where a Cuban airliner is parked after it was hijacked to the US, confiscated and sold to a Cuban American family with a claim against the Castro government. Here it sits apparently forever:

Well that's one curiosity out of the way and if you can avoid riding to the end of government road to check out the old cold war Hawk Missile sites http://conchscooter.blogspot.com/2010/03/hawk-missiles.html you can keep on going to the cemetery in the middle of the island. I love this place and you should too. It's the best park in the city and all it requires is some peaceful contemplation from you and a modicum of respect for the dead and their families who still live in town.
If its getting late you could reverse the next part of the program and go to Fausto's on Fleming first or to Five Brothers a couple of blocks north of the cemetery on Grinnell for a genuine Cuban sandwich and perhaps some bollos (boy-ohs) deep fried black eyed pea balls like falafels, or perhaps a papa rellena, a ball of deep fried mashed potato with ground beef in the middle, a kind of Cuban scotch egg. Buy that and find a shady spot in the cemetery and commune with the dead. I like to think they appreciate the company of the living. There's a lot of Key West history buried here above ground. http://conchscooter.blogspot.com/2013/03/famous-dead-people.html
Fausto's Food Palace has two locations, one on White Street and one on Fleming just off Duval as though to emphasize the insularity of people who live on a four mile island but won't travel a dozen blocks to buy groceries. My wife likes to buy small containers of seaweed, antipasto, olives, octopus, and humus for instance.
Fausto's bills itself as a social gathering place but it is a supermarket on a small scale or a convenience store on a large scale.Faustos Key West | Store Departments boasts tons of yuppie foods, exotic spices, expensive labels and real butchers cutting up meat in the back, the place where you are as likely as not to see the owner doing physical labor despite his standing as a former mayor and current city commissioner.

With picnic in hand the next stop is the Art and History Museum on Front Street in the former US Customs House. http://conchscooter.blogspot.com/2012/09/key-west-art-and-history-museum.html I love this place and you will too if you want to learn about small town key west's history, its attachment to Hemingway and local Art. Do not miss the Customs House and across the street you will see the Mel Fisher museum which I also greatly enjoy.

One hopes the picnic hasn't overheated because from here you will ride down Whitehead Street to Petronia and from there you will ride west to Truman Waterfront and seek out the Fort Zachary Taylor State Park where you will rest in the shade of the pine trees (casuarinas) saved from destruction as non native trees whose shade is much appreciated by locals. There is good swimming off the beach and a concession stand that sells hot greasy food if the delicacies from the deli at Fausto's are too esoteric for your sturdy pizza enflamed taste buds.
I have my favorite picnic table at Fort Zach hidden in the shade of the sea grapes flourishing near the fence that divides the park from the Navy base at the beach. Any picnic table will serve the purpose. Walk the fort later and the nature trail, a short lesson in native flora that I forget as soon as I have walked it. If you have done a good job of whiling away the day it will be close to sunset and most people I know avoid Mallory Square unless they have out of town visitors who have never seen the fair at sunset before. Now that the Top on La Concha is slated for destruction, the bar to be replaced by a spa (!), the most votes for sunset viewing go to Truman Waterfront, unscripted, unsupervised and sparsely attended. Here's your own spot to enjoy the sunset:

Up stairs at Turtle Kraals is Shannon's favorite spot for un-obscured viewing across the water in civilized surroundings with a drink in your hand. This is the view from ground level but upstairs is really much nicer.

The other great spot is rather eccentric but that's what you are looking for right? Ride to the top floor of the city parking garage at Grinnell near Caroline (close to Finnegan's Wake coincidentally) and from there you will probably be alone, unless there is a wedding in progress, and now I shoot myself as a gentleman does, for giving away the secret local sunset viewing spot, Key West Diary: Park And Ride. Just like this feathered rat:
Santiago's is my favorite romantic dinner place at the moment, tapas, wine and impeccable service make for value for money.

I like Finnegan's Wake a no nonsense Irish pub spoiled by too many television screens but made good by Boddington's and Smithwick's on draught. And an Irish breakfast plate to die for. And strawberry shortcake and custard. I am a pig.

So, there you have it. On the subject of eating out you could have Indian food on the terrace at the Pegasus Hotel, on Southard overlooking Duval Street. Or have a proper sit down dinner at Café Sole on Southard Street. Or spend a fortune at Latitudes on Sunset Key (better to have a very reasonable lunch there if you feel like lounging). There are too many suggestions. Or go for a ride on your motorcycle.

So now if you feel like putting me straight please go back and read the first paragraph again, okay?
cheers
Michael.




Sunday, November 3, 2013

American Indian Arts Celebration.

I wanted to sleep. You know how it feels when you are just feeling like passing out? You crave the deep snuggling comfort of your bed? I laid down and my dog got next to me and... My wife shook my shoulder roughly: "Time to go. Get up! Places to see!" Damn it! I just worked twelve sodding hours...time to get up fifteen minutes after I laid down. She was merciless, gave me a pillow to lean against in the passenger seat and we pulled out from under the house at 6:50 am. I know because I saw the glowing blue numbers last thing before I passed out. She turned up the car radio and started humming to herself. She was having fun. I chose to drool into my pillow.

Four hours after we left home at Mile Marker 27 we arrived at the Seminole Village buried in the Everglades north of Alligator Alley, the highway that cuts across South Florida, and the tents were up, the vendors were primed and food was cooking for the American Indian Arts Celebration put on by the Seminole Museum which we visited just a few weeks ago when my wife learned of this weekend get together. Key West Diary: Ah Tah Thi Ki Museum .

We made our entrance even as the wild animal dude was showing off his rattlesnake buddy. The rope muscle is apparently as venomous as God made him but they think they are good buddies so no one is biting anyone. He said, but I was as grossed out as the young scouts were, including the one wearing the pink underwear on his or her head.

Linus the blonde skunk was next. I didn't know there were blonde skunks either...and we learned how skunks target you when they defend themselves and so forth. It was a great presentation. You missed something interesting informative and entertaining under the ninety degree sky.

His audience was all there for the Okalee Village Critter Show, from the Hollywood Seminole reservation. Seminole Tribe of Florida - Tourism And Enterprises, Seminole Okalee Indian Village

Black Jack was the black vulture on display,

...and then Sable the red tailed hawk, an interesting bird. Light colored underneath to blend with the sky and dark on top to blend with the ground beneath. Capable of flight at hundreds of miles an hour and a hard core predator. Many oohs and aahs from the crowd. Life's tough for these birds. One in five live long enough to leave the nest, one in 300 die of old age. This guy is past his sell by date but he lives in captivity.

Then the gator wrestling with Edward Osceola watched over by a grim looking Otter John. Apparently being on land makes alligators feel vulnerable (!) and they get a bit agitated. No problem for a man called Osceola. A bit of a problem for me as the show was hidden in the shade, out of the direct burning heat of the noonday sunlight. Camera settings were impossible to manage.

Say what you will I don't trust alligators, perhaps because I don't understand them, but I do know they catch food for consumption later so hunger is not why they hunt. I like to observe them from a distance thanks. Not so this dude.

Being a 911 dispatcher is said to be a stressful occupation. Check this out for stress:

Surviving an encounter with an alligator apparently brings out the bear in Seminoles. The bear dance, accompanied by pounding drum beats and guttural Mongolian throat songs, or some such.

Apparently it's a way for young Seminoles to feel each other up, a courting ritual disguised as an expression of animal empathy. Public dances for white people's appreciation are apparently toned down but the women volunteers invited to dance with the Seminole men got into the spirit of being a stomping bear.

Huh? We both noticed the Muslim woman getting into the multi-cultural spirit grinning like nobody's business, as she went round clawing in the air and pawing at the Indians. Kudos for breaking down barriers I say.

Then there was the all-important shopping.

We got Christmas gifts for my sisters who grew up on stories of Indians and I wanted a gross alligator claw back scratcher. My wife balked but it was recently my birthday and we both got into the event as seniors (urgh!) and I got my way spending six whole dollars for the object. "I don't want to know how you got these things," I said. He grinned.

This lot showed up from Andros in the Bahamas. It's the one among the Family Islands I haven't visited and want to. I'm told Andros which supplies the capital Nassau with fresh water is quite intriguing and under inhabited, a bit like my neighbor Big Pine Key with reticent residents, piney woods and watery channels. I still want to sail there. I remember hearing the radio crackling with messages from the village of Morgan's Bluff, as in those days they didn't have phones and used marine radio to communicate. They sounded isolated and romantic and piratical and I've never yet got to see the place! We bought some stuff as a stop gap instead.

No, we didn't eat alligator this time.

We had beef stew in brown gravy over rice and agreed the cabbage was first rate. "I think I may have to rethink cooking cabbage," my wife said. She does great Brussels sprouts but hates cabbage. Some Jew. I love cabbage. Some goy. Great things may come from this Indian experience...perhaps more cabbage for me!

It was close to ninety degrees, hot humid and close. They were quite heroic in their hot open air kitchen.

There was a lot of food for ten modest dollars, rich and heavy and delicious. "I will never be hungry again," I said as my dog watched my every move with great care.

She got a taste, I can't imagine denying her a chance to sample all those lovely smells that had got her interest. I am not one of those humans who expresses his self control through denial of his dog's base desires. I imagine interrupting Cheyenne's sniffing of an interesting smell in the same way I get frustrated when someone interrupts me reading a book. I anthropomorphize and I know it.

I have a confession. She got away from me while I was fiddling with my camera and started snuffling under a vendor's table earlier in the day. "I got those cookies from Subway in Okeechobee!" the poor woman wailed, a farm town 90 minutes away, whose bounty was now in my Labrador's mouth. I was mortified. I searched out every vendor, scoured their offerings and rounded up a mixed bag of cookies. I think she was surprised when I came back with two ice cold bottles of water and a dozen mixed cookies. I didn't blame Cheyenne for being a dog, it was my fault and I fixed it, as best I could.

A nice place to spend a Saturday together. Come early avoid the crowds. Sadly I have to admit my wife was right to keep me out of bed and get me on the road before the sun came up; it was worth it!