Some grief is simply unbearable. Some losses are incalculable.

New York City lost Flaco the beloved owl yesterday. As The Gothamist put it, a city mourns. Our poor friend was found on West 89th Street. He had collided with a building — it’s a common cause of death for city birds.

Flaco had made his transition to freedom from the Central Park Zoo brilliantly and was living off of rats he hunted down. But extending his territory outside the park was his undoing.

New Yorkers gathered this weekend at one of his favorite trees to pay respect. They dropped off bouquets, poems, condolence cards, stuffed teddy bears and toy owls at an oak tree in the park’s North Woods and expressed their grief.

What a beautiful owl. What an endearing spirit. The city is no stranger to gut punches; 9-11 and so many others. It will endure. But it won’t be the same.

Rest in peace, beautiful friend. (Special thanks to Jenny for the artwork, above.)

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The puzzle was a series of terrible puns today, linked to doctors’ visits. Fine by me, but Rex hated it. E.g., I visited the podiatrist and now I … STAND CORRECTED. Or, I visited the dermatologist, who … MADE A RASH DECISION. Fun, right? Here’s Rex:

Wow, this is so painfully corny. Why do people keep making these? I guess because Will [Shortz] keeps taking them. I absolutely Do Not Get It. These long pun stories, they’re a time-honored tradition, but they seem like the biggest cop-out. Just a huge non-theme. Ordinary phrases linked by only the most preposterous imagined scenarios, which turn the ordinary phrases into puns of some kind. And the puns aren’t even groaners. They’re either completely weak (i.e. obvious), like DIDN’T MISS A BEAT [cardiologist], or they are borderline inscrutable, like GAVE ME THE NOD [sleep specialist] (are we calling sleep “THE NOD” now?), or they are completely made up—nobody but nobody ever “visited the anesthesiologist.” [LOST MY TOUCH] That is not a doctor that you go to. That is a doctor that attends surgeries. I’ve only ever seen anesthesiologists at my actual damn procedures. I never “visited the anesthesiologist.” And what, just to get some numbing drugs? What the hell? That makes no kind of sense. Plus, the idea that anesthesiologists make you lose “your touch,” what? You go under. That is losing a lot more than your “touch.” Then there’s the fact that the themers change tense, and veer back and forth between the doctor doing things and the patient doing things. It’s a mess. An old-fashioned, unambitious, uninspired mess. Completely baffling. 

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Many folks enjoyed it more than Rex, including me. Commenter JohnK added a couple I liked:

I missed two visits to the urologist,. . . . but I finally went.

I went to the acupuncturist . . . . and he stuck me with a big bill.

If you like Winnie the Pooh, you may appreciate 57A. The clue was “Sorry ass?” And the answer was EEYORE.

The only guest of note was JENNA Bush, clued as the partner of Hoda on “Today.” She’s the daughter of W, the ex-prez. I didn’t know she picked up the Today gig. Here are the girls with mom, in stilettos! Jenna’s on the right.

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The NJ Symphony was on its game today. The oboe concerto we discussed in OC yesterday was gorgeous. We couldn’t catch “circular breathing,” but it was clear the oboist was very careful with his breathing. The applause was so enthusiastic, he played a beautiful encore from Bach for us (with a cello and flute popping in with assists).

We’ll share this lovely oboe work to send us off on this sad night.