It turns out that Shiba Inus do bark, which Kobe did during lunch when he insisted on partaking of human food.
Fearing the splats after we complied with his (many) requests for bacon bits, we took him for a walk on a muggy, drizzly Florida afternoon.
We bought our house here 20 years ago, when we lived full time in Greenwich CT and I commuted to Manhattan by train.
At that time, this area was a scrubland cow pasture.
Now look at it: much of what you see in the two pics above is artificially-created, at least compositionally, but for my wife, and I, and of course the Kobester.
Leaving Amerika 