On Christmas Eve I try to take a walk into downtown Minneapolis. We see the sites. We try to make some homeless guys smile.
The wind was strong. The dogs were acting special. I was overtired. I needed a toilet. Most of all it wasn't fun, and the dogs could tell. I'd planned eight to twelve miles, but after four, we cut bait and went home. We didn't spend time with any homeless guys. We just exchanged a few words with passing joggers from the gentrified apartments nearby.
One of the most valuable lessons I've learned about training dogs: when to stop and call it a day. When it is no longer a game, you're not doing anyone any good. It is time to get a cinnamon roll and coffee, and set back for the car. Go home. Drink a beer. Write a blog post.
I did snap a few shots in front of the future home of the Minnesota Vikings and on our way home we came across another instance of "things (presumably) abandoned by a homeless guy."
|Can you tell I was trying to eat a roll?|
|"Show me 'disinterested.'"|
|"Look at me."|
|"Think deep thoughts"|
|"Let me see 'furtive.'"|
|Apparently abandoned: bike, books, and a few clothes.|