What I remember most about owning pets (from birds to cats to several dogs) is that they weren’t around that long. This fact was not due to ill-care, but rather to a certain family member who insisted that each cat/dog/kitten/puppy/bird was succumbing to some unalterable primal behavior of chewing, throwing up, pooping, barking, mewing, attention-seeking behavior and therefore disturbing so-and-so’s sleep and costing so-and-so’s money; thus, eventually, each was given away in its turn due to some ineffaceable error.
I was delighted then, after years of dog lust, when a friend of my Sister’s found a pup. This pup, covered in fleas and wearing a cat collar when he was found, is adorable. Though a full-scale search for his former owners is in effect, nothing has come to fruition and it is assumed he may be another victim of the recession – put out due to financial strain or otherwise just losing his cuteness after growing older. On my Sisters’ friends advice, we are “testing” him out and happily took him out to see the world. However, a lot of comforting and petting and cooing had to be done, the poor pup’s been through a lot.
Santa Monica was wonderful last night; from the salty ocean air to assembled yogis in a sunset class – with complimentary wooden flute soundtrack – butts hoisted towards the flushed sunset.
NO SAINTS IN L.A. 