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After last week’s extended detour into frustration, I decided to have a completely sybaritic weekend in which my activities would be entirely decided by my Id. Which twice led me to Woofstock (and I consider it a small miracle that I made it through two days of the largest dog festival in North America without getting dogpoop on my tires). Click photos to embiggen. There were small dogs

Big dogs

Ewoks

Basselopes

Apprehensive dogs

Dogs who quickly figured out to milk all the attention

Dogs dressed for the occasion (the accessory of the year apparently being aviator goggles for smaller dogs – why??)

Colour-coordinated dogs

Drooly dogs

Hot dogs (summer arrived yesterday. No socks!)

Dogs who decided to be So Done With This and flop down on the sidewalk

And dogs who achieved elegance while resting in the shade

And then I cam home to this look

and spent the remainder of the weekend appeasing Her Royal Catness for my treachery. My Id was okay with that.