Dubai is now home to what has been billed as the world’s largest indoor dog park, complete with customised luxury suites, 24/7 webcams, flat screen TVs and orthopedic mattresses. Launched during Easter at Dubai Investment Park, My Second Home already has many takers with 40 of its 200 residential luxury rooms booked for summer. Here: a dog sits on its bed at My Second Home, a newly opened luxury pet resort and spa, in Dubai, April 24, 2015. (Photo by Ahmed Jadallah/Reuters)

Revellers enjoy a night out in central Liverpool, northwest England, on December 30, 2020 before hightened Tier 3 restrictions closing hospitality venues, and bars indoor and outdoor socialising between households are imposed in the city amid surging cases of the novel coronavirus. (Photo by Oli Scarff/AFP Photo)

Pro-Russian separatists from the Chechen “Death” battalion take part in a training exercise in the territory controlled by the self-proclaimed Donetsk People's Republic, eastern Ukraine, December 8, 2014. Chanting “Allahu Akbar” (God is greatest), dozens of armed men in camouflage uniforms from Russia's republic of Chechnya train in snow in a camp in the rebel-held east Ukraine. They say their “Death” unit fighting Ukrainian forces has 300 people, mostly former state security troops in the mainly-Muslim region where Moscow waged two wars against Islamic insurgents and which is now run by a Kremlin-backed strongman. (Photo by Maxim Shemetov/Reuters)

Alex “Torreto” Vellios, a 26-year old barber sports his tattoo of an open razor as he holds a real razor while preparing for his first customer of the day at his Torreto barber shop in Frankfurt, January 6, 2015. Inspired by a childhood trip to the barbers with his grandfather in Greece, Vellios, a formally trained hairdresser and self-taught barber, fulfilled his dream of opening his own gentleman's barber shop five months ago and has turned it into a successful male grooming and shaving business with customers now waiting up to three to four weeks for an appointment to see him. (Photo by Kai Pfaffenbach/Reuters)

Painted eggshell displayed at Wayan Sadra's workshop on April 14, 2014 in Sukawati, Gianyar, Bali, Indonesia. 50-year-old Wayan Sadra got the idea to start his eggshell painting business, after his niece who worked in a five star hotel asked for his help to paint on an egg for an Easter egg competition. Now the business he started in 1997 attracts customers for his painted eggs from Germany, France, Italy, and the Netherlands. Sadra usually experiences a surge in sales ahead of Easter. (Photo by Putu Sayoga/Getty Images)

This tiny hedgehog is in a prickly position as hes unable to grow spikes, leaving him needing round-the-clock care. The woodland critter was found with no spikes and has been taken in by a family hoping to nurse him back to health so he can be released into the wild. Named Mr Prickleless, the hedgehog was rescued by Dina Nixon and her daughter Jennifer, 25, after being taken into a rescue centre in December last year. It is not known what happened to his spikes, but Dina has vowed that if they ever do return he will be returned to the wild. But for now the hedgehog has taken shelter in a rabbit hutch in her garden. (Photo by Caters News Agency)

While communism, collectivism, worms, dry rot and casual looting failed to destroy the majestic wooden churches of Russia, it may be ordinary neglect that finally does them in. Dwindled now to several hundred remaining examples, these glories of vernacular architecture lie scattered amid the vastness of the world’s largest country. Just over a decade ago, Richard Davies, a British architectural photographer, struck out on a mission to record the fragile and poetic structures. Austerely beautiful and haunting, “Wooden Churches: Traveling in the Russian North” (White Sea Publishing; $132) is the result. Covering thousands of miles, Mr. Davies described how he and the writer Matilda Moreton tracked down the survivors from among the thousands of onion-domed structures built after Prince Vladimir converted to Christianity in 988.

James Kerr started his project “Scorpion Dagger” without any real direction, except for the intention to make one GIF everyday(ish) for one year. He had been making collages for some time and “Scorpion Dagger” started out to be a test of discipline and a way for him to learn how to animate. Making GIFs was a logical evolution to him. The project represents many different things to him, the works from which he draws upon are so powerful and inspirational to him, that he is now nearly obsessed with repurposing them to share his vision of the world, and perhaps inspire people to look at art differently. The project is tremendously personal to him, it’s a lot more than the humor that’s at its surface and he is still trying to work out what “Scorpion Dagger” really is.