The diseased docks fell into disuse over the decades of grime and crime. Still, the pigeons peck and coo back and forth in the dark places like lonesome doves. The flea-bitten cats with manicures prowl about nights singing gutterally to penniless patrons. The fly-bitten dogs with choke collars pander about pensively looking for a meal to chase. Back in those days, the birds ate like kings, the cats enjoyed the rats, and the dogs were strangely petted. It was a glorious carnival, with plays and rides, the constant chatter, and the occasional childish shriek. The popular places to hang out were the cotton-candy booth, the giddy merry-go-round, and the black leather hot-dog stand.