Lottie had the trow-ups last night, but she's okay today. Did any of you ever read that blog, Blue Skies and Yellow Dogs? She doesn't blog anymore, but she had this hilarious housekeeper who'd leave her long notes, often about the fact that Colleen hadn't scored a man yet. But what sticks in my mind is that one of her pets was sick and the housekeeper wrote that "he had the trow-ups."
When I got home last night and fed Lottie, she slid down in front of her dish and put her head on her paws. Eventually she sat up and barked at her food. The trainer said to give her 15 minutes a feeding, then put her food up and that puppies don't starve themselves to death.
So, okay, I put her food up. But then she wanted to LIE on me while I was on the couch, a thing she never wants to do unless she's totally drunk. The rest of her time involves annoying the other animals. But I let her sleep on me.
Until she woke up heaving.
Oh, did she barf. A lot. I was so worried, and I looked it up and saw it was pretty common and I didn't SCOOP HER UP and SCREAM her to the overnight vet as I wanted to. Instead, I did Tracy Anderson and kept an eye on her while I did. When I was done, I went over to the dog bed, where she put her head on me and looked up at me with sad eyes.
Oh my GOD.
So. She slept with me last night and not the crate and guess what.
In the meantime, the other night my pal Jo had a reading of her new book, Naked DJ. I helped copy edit it a few years back, and she gave me a copy and I'm reading it all over again, anyway. It's one of those perfect books for the summer, when you just want to get absorbed in a story. Jo was really a DJ in New York, so she speaks from experience. I don't know if she's ever naked. I mean, she must be sometimes.
Anyway, I went to her book reading at the local bookstore even though I'd had a damn migraine all day, and where's my spiderweb that reads "Some Friend"?
Kit was there, and Kayeeeee of Marty Martin and Kayeeee. Marty was also there, with his doppelganger, his son Parker.
(Marty designed Jo's bookmark. I know, man!) Marty's son Parker just started college last year, and that motherfucker got to study in Italy for his first year of college. Italy.
I went to a community college about five miles past the border of my hometown my first year of college, but okay.
I had to see photos, all year long, of that motherfucker all over Europe, with hot Europe girls, doing fun Europe things, and now he's back and going to tough it out in college in NEW YORK from here on out.
Is it unkind to refer to your friend's kid as "motherfucker"? Because, COME ON. With his LIFE.
He bought a cheerful Camus book while he was there, just to sort of balance out the PERFECTION THAT IS HIS LIFE RIGHT NOW.
Here's a picture I accidentally took of myself walking to the bookstore. I kind of like it.
At the reading, Jo played Led Zeppelin and challenged people to an air guitar contest. One guy had the nerve to do it, and he was great.
On the way home, I did what I never do. There's a street light between my house and downtown that if I look to the left, I can see my old house with Ned. I never, ever, ever look. Sometimes I even put my hand up like a blinder so I don't look.
So, I looked.
I know. It's like we're all back living there again, isn't it? Okay, you have to look ALL THE WAY down the street, past the other set of lights, but there it is. The blue-gray house. Not the green one. Those green people hated us. They put shutters in all their windows once we moved in, and had them shut all the time. God knows what they saw, over there, at our house.
Anyway, it's sad, but no longer I-can't-breathe sad. So.
In the meantime, I have BABY BITTY BIRDS in my birdhouse, and every time I walk by, I hear peep peep peeep peeep peeeeeeep! It's so cute. Iris similarly finds it charming.
I better go. I think the Alex who sits next to me was able to get her dog last night already, so further reports as developments warrant.