Here rests the corpse of Fluffy and San Francisco's industrial spirit.

Dogpatch's Toxic Beach has been going through quite the revival lately.  The city recently built a new park just up the road, all the walls are freshly painted, the notorious waist-high weeds have been cut down to nice grass, a neighbor has planted a flower garden, and now the park is home to a bizarre rock garden that resembles a twisted and terrible pet cemetery.

“Well Billy, if hadn't put your chocolate soy milk bottle in the wrong recycling bin maybe Mr. Barkley wouldn't have died.”

While I'm sure there are no animals actually buried at the reclaimed tire dump, there's nearly a dozen monuments to pets: a dog, lizard, snake, bird, and more than three turtles.

One of Toxic Beach's resident homeless claims a guy shows up “almost everyday” to work on the monuments with the Port Authorities' blessings, but the evidence left behind suggests that this is not the work of a man who obtains permission from various elected, appointed, or paid authorities, but rather goes about his business with Frank Chu-like zeal:

On a slightly unrelated note: while leaving Toxic Beach after taking these snaps, a large and menacing animal control officer stopped my friend and I to ask us if we saw a “large black dog” running around the park, “looking distressed or scared.”  We dismissed this inquiry at the time, but now I can't help but feel that the ghost of Mr. Barkley is roaming the streets of Potrero Hill, looking to punish Billy for his blue bin apathy.