Dad, and a Giant Small Dog

My dad is in the hospital again, this time with what appears to be pneumonia. I've been in regular contact with my family but, having just returned from Florida, I don't plan to fly back unless his condition worsens. He's in the ICU, and he's mostly sedated, so we're doubtful he'd be aware of my presence even if I were there. We're in a holding pattern, watching and waiting to see how he fares.

In honor of him and my stepmother, and their chihuahuas Pinky and Manny, I went to East London yesterday to photograph what is possibly the world's largest small dog. I just became aware of this piece of street art, by Boe and Irony, but I think it's been up for a while. It's in Google Street View pictures taken last fall. Pretty amazing, isn't it?

Anyway, I'm now in an awkward position -- Dave and I have numerous minor events planned this week and, more importantly, our pre-paid trip to Copenhagen this weekend. We're certainly ready to drop all that if need be, and even to absorb the financial losses, but my hope is my dad will recover enough that it won't be necessary. It's not so much that I want to have fun in Copenhagen -- in fact it's hard to imagine having any fun with this going on -- but if we don't go, we'll lose the more than £1,000 we've paid for airfare and three nights in a hotel. Argh!

I know. I feel like a selfish bastard even raising the issue. But it's out there.

We just have to take things day by day and see what happens. There's no reason to expect that he won't get better, although it's certainly possible that he won't. Only time will tell.