With the rains, things have been quiet. Even the man who stands outside on his balcony in only his boxer shorts has taken to staying indoors. The streets are wet, flowing and more than a little forlorn. Newscasters remain very animated and energetic, though, particularly the weather reporters, who finally have something to report. Otherwise, most humans are hidden from sight. Even the interior hallways of my building are quieter than usual. Where normally I'd see 1-2 humans per day in the elevator or by the mailboxes, this week everything remains hushed.

This afternoon I went to Rebecca's to pick up her mail (2:47 p.m.). I have decided to present a paper on our acquaintanceship at the Zerbeda conference. As I have only known her for six months, one week and three days, I lack data. A visit to her home would help me to clarify my research via an ethnoarchaeological survey of her consumption habits.

I began by sketching the perimeter of her apartment, then dividing the space into quadrants. I began in the northwest corner and planned to progress clockwise, recording major durable purchases (clothing, furnishings) as well as disposable items likely to land in the dumpster within the next 2-3 months.

Halfway through recording the contents of her coat closet (see partial list below) a key turned in the lock. I shut the closet door and stepped out into the room, picking up her mail off the coffee table. The door swung open and in stepped Lester, with Jughead yapping at his heels.

"Oh! Sander. I didn't expect you."

"Hello, Lester. Greetings, Jughead."

Jughead hurled himself toward me, but Lester snapped the leash back hard and the dog fell back to the floor.

"What're you doing here, man?"

"Rebecca asked me to pick up her mail once a week." I held the mail out to show him.

"Oh, right. But the mailboxes are outside, right?"

"True. But I'm also watering her plants."

(Rebecca's only plant is a desert succulent in her living room window.)

"Right. Well, I'm watching Jughead, obviously."

"Yes. You are quite masterful with him."

"I grew up with a lot of dogs."

"How many is a lot?"

"Two or three at a time. Big ones, mostly. But my mom and sisters liked little ones like this. Mean, useless little bastards. Ugly, too. But a certain kind of ugly, women think is cute, you know? Us guys, we can learn something from that. Right, Jugs?"

Jughead lay his head on the floor and looked up at us, silent.

"You have really got him under control."

"Yeah. Thanks."

"What brings you here today, Lester?"

"I forgot his chew toy. The uh, squirrel?"

"Oh, yes. It's in the coat closet, next to the purple rain boots."

That is what the humans call a "blunder", of course. I should not have admitted my knowledge of the toy's whereabouts.

Lester laughed and shook his head. "Of course it is. Dios mio." ("My god.") He opened the closet and removed the squirrel. Jughead whined at the sight of the toy. Lester stared the dog into submission, then shoved the squirrel into his jacket pocket. It squeaked.

"You headed back outside now?"

"I have what I came for, Rebecca's mail, so yes, I guess I am."

Lester went outside, and I followed him, locking the door behind me.

"Lester, I must ask: why would you volunteer to watch a dog that urinated on your leg?"

Lester laughed again. "I ask myself that every time I look at this rat bag. Nah, you know. Jughead and I have a lot in common. We both like chasing tail."

Chasing tail? I must have looked confused. Lester snapped the leash and pulled Jughead back toward the sidewalk.

"Sander, man, that mail's getting all wet. You better get inside."

"I guess I'd better."

"See ya around."

"Hasta luego."

As I headed back to my apartment, I thought about what Lester had said. Could he mean he genuinely enjoys chasing Jughead's tail? Is this some sort of odd human/canine pastime? Or could it be an idiomatic expression?

I will look into this. In the meantime:

Contents of Rebecca Harris's Coat Closet - Partial List

* Thirteen pairs of shoes, boots, and sandals (including purple rain boots) - mainly brown, beige, black or white
* One chewable squirrel-shaped dog toy
* One blue plastic ball with a star symbol on it (presumably also a dog toy; smells like dog breath)
* One small red coat with four arm holes - presumably for Jughead to wear
* Seven human-sized coats in varying lengths and fabrics - black, blue, pink, green
* Three scarves, all polyester blend
* One tennis racket with a broken string
* Two baseball caps - New York Mets, Lenny and Joe's Fish Tail
* One winter hat, light green cotton knit with a pom-pom
* One pair of ski boots, one pair of skis - Rossignol brand; quite scratched
* One small wooden trunk, white with brass brackets (far to the back of the surprisingly deep closet)
* One bicycle lock
* One bicycle helmet
* One loose pile of reusable shopping bags (seventeen in total)
* A pair of used automobile brake pads
* Many dust balls
* Five spiders

As I said, this is a partial list. There were other items I did not record, plus the contents of the white trunk. I may return, but I should wait a few days as I do not neighbors to report any unusual behavior to Rebecca.

The contents of Rebecca's closet seem wholly unexceptional to me, though I do wonder why any human would require thirteen pairs of shoes when they possess only one pair of feet. However, it is my understanding that human women collect shoes and purses, and that in reference to these items there exists no concept of "too many".

Possible status items? Total number of shoes + bags denotes social power and influence?

Much to consider. But for now - dessert, television, and sleep.