The Latest Poop

From dictionary.com:

Poop:

- noun Slang.
relevant information, esp. a candid or pertinent factual report; low-down: Send a reporter to get the real poop on that accident.

I was on the phone with a friend the other night. We got to talking about celebrities we've met and how silly we feel about being starstruck. He mentioned reading something by someone who works in a grocery store where Jamie Lee Curtis shops. Got me wondering if she bought any Activia, then I realized this was ridiculous. She probably gets truckloads of the stuff for free. I'll bet when she shops she buys cheese. Lots and lots of cheese. Because she knows that when she gets home there's all that that Activia waiting.

I asked my friend if he thought it was odd that in one of the commercials she hugs the other woman, a stranger. My friend suggested it wasn't really a hug. They were squeezing each other so they could poop.

I met Jamie Lee Curtis years ago, when I was writing for a sitcom starring Tom Arnold. (Don't even bother trying to remember which one. Trust me, you've never seen it.) Ms. Curtis was there to visit one of the producers, but stopped by the writers' room and said hello. She was incredibly friendly and encouraging. Could not have been nicer. I had no idea she was constipated.

Someone else I know often sees her walking her dogs in the park. Unlike some celebrities, she follows the rules and keeps them on-leash. Really, could not be nicer.

And on that subject of dogs in the park...

Only 15 dogs from L.A.'s South shelter came to the Mobile Pet Adoption yesterday.

Due to the forest fires still burning, East Valley shelter needed to keep their trucks at the facility in case of an emergency. Still, 10 of the 15 dogs were adopted, including Ireena...

One little dog is being transferred to a less crowded shelter:

And this dog, Tux, is going to a private rescue. Very happy news.

Plus 2 cats were adopted, one of whom I picked up this afternoon and delivered to the Valley, since her new owner couldn't get there from work before closing. Traffic was heavy. Good thing she slept the whole way.

I also made two other recent trips to the shelter. Last time I saw a couple who were shopping for a kitten. They picked this guy:

Actually, he picked them.

Some of my East Coast friends think it's really cool that I often see celebrities. But actually, it's usually more like this: years ago I went to a party at some famous director's house whose name I can't remember now but Buck Henry was there. And all I could think all night long was, "How sad for Buck Henry that he has nothing better to do on a Saturday night than what I'm doing."

Of course, now I spend my Saturday nights at home with my cats. And sometimes when I look at them, I could swear they're thinking to themselves, "How sad for us that we have nothing better to do..."

Still waiting for a thank you from George Clooney

Years ago, when I was a writer for the TV show "Step By Step", I had a small office on the Warner Bros. lot. The best thing about the office was the single window which sat right above the basketball hoop where the cast of "ER" played ball. I could have opened that window and thrown crumpled script pages at them. (As a sitcom writer I had a lot of time to think about things that had nothing to do with sitcom writing.) Anyway, the cast will never know what I didn't do so they'll never thank me.

Other people I know make better use of their time, like Jane who spent a couple of hours at the shelter yesterday grooming this girl named Tommy...

... who was completely ignored by this nearby resident:



(Hhmm... much the way George Clooney ignored me.)

Later, Andrea took out a couple of dogs for walks and photo sessions...

... which they quite obviously did appreciate.

And Tommy got lucky. A couple came to adopt her even before her beauty parlor appointment was over. And since she was already spayed, as soon as the paperwork was done she went home.

Meanwhile, dogs and cats and everything else keep coming in, literally by the bucketful:

Incidentally, although I never told Mr. Clooney that I could have lobbed water balloons at him and his colleagues, we did have a brief conversation once when the "Step By Step" writers had to interrupt and walk through their game on our way to watch a rehearsal.

Our conversation went like this:

Me: Always getting in the way. Those pesky writers.

George (with a grin): Damn writers.

I will remember it forever.

The New Math

When I was in elementary school in the 1960s adults would refer to the "New Math" we were learning. I never understood what they meant - did two plus two equal five in their day?

My mother in "their day":

I thought of the New Math this morning when I called the airline regarding my luggage for a one-day trip I'm taking this week. There's now a $15 charge for the first checked piece, which I wouldn't need if I were allowed to carry on my shampoo, but you can't have any liquids in excess of three ounces and it takes a pound of products to control my frizz. The correct solution, according to the Old Math, would have been to dump out all my little hotel sample bottles of mouthwash and refill them with what I need. But I am a student of the New Math which says go out and buy about $15 worth of little empty bottles, fill them with what you want, forget to label them and then act surprised when your hair looks awful because you washed it with hand lotion.

They also charge you now for food on the plane so I went out and bought snacks. Forgot to check if there's a weight limit on those and if they have to fit under the seat in front of me.

That's what I did today instead of rehearsing and revising my presentation, although I did work on it yesterday until I got an email that two cats at the South L.A. shelter needed to be photographed for potential rescuers. I called Andrea, one of my favorite volunteers, and the two of us headed down there to take photos of various cats and dogs.

Here's one cat still in need of a home or rescuer:

As well as all of these guys:

While this lucky girl was adopted, named Zoe, and went to her new home:

Meanwhile, this poor guy was found injured and tied to the fence at the shelter annex because his former owner didn't have the decency to turn him in at the front desk:

When I get home I talk to my cats about all the animals still at the shelter (yes, I'm one of those people) but this time they just looked at me like they were asking, "Don't you have a presentation to work on?"

I did finish writing it, even timed it with a stopwatch and it's just right.

As for my hair... maybe there'll be room in my carry-on for a hat, just in case.

Don't Yell At Me! I'm A Volunteer

Someone once gave me one of these pins and it got a good response so I had a batch made to give out to the volunteers at the Mobile Pet Adoption events, even though I don't usually wear mine there - I prefer to wear it at work.







I did go to the MPA yesterday. I wore this pin instead:








It took a while to get there as the Aids Walk was passing through my neighborhood. I had no idea the homeless guy with the white pit bull was one of our local celebrities, but there they were walking with the crowd, cheered on by all who know them.



Since I was stuck in traffic anyway, I figured I'd jump out of my car and hand him some cans of dog food (I always stock the kind with the flip-top lid), but then worried they might have gone bad in the back of my car since it's been hot out. I called a friend who assured me the food was fine, handed it off, then got back into my car and headed north.



This is how I live my life; I try to do a good deed and then panic it will only harm the recipient.

Kind of like what happens at the MPA. I usually just take photos and roam around sort of helping, but don't actually handle a dog for the day because it seems my dog never gets adopted. But yesterday, around 2pm, I was asked to hold a 5-month-old German shepherd puppy. What could be more adoptable than that? Well, there were a few people interested, but at the end of the day she was still headed back to the shelter in search of a home.



On the plus side, it did seem to be a good day for some older mutts to get bathed and adopted. Like these guys:



















And two weeks ago, a woman came hoping to adopt a Shih Tzu, then changed her mind when a slightly larger dog sat on her foot and she fell in love. Here's the slightly-larger-than-a-Shih-Tzu Ruger, with his new mom and saying hello to another shelter hopeful:











I mentioned my bad luck to one of the other volunteers and she suggested that next time they'll have me hold a dog that's already been adopted. We'll see how that goes...

Lights! Camera! Adoption!

A film crew from a USC documentary class came to the Mobile Pet Adoption yesterday.

I'm pretty sure I wasn't caught on-camera. Hope so. It was hot and I was wearing shorts and although I've lived in L.A. for 19 years, my legs still look like they've never seen the sun.

(No photo of my legs here -- too much glare.)

But the film crew did see a bunch of dogs getting bathed and/or adopted...

This 8-year-old girl was covered in ticks and fleas and the mysterious baseball-capped volunteer (okay, it's Karen!) ran her through the wash cycle multiple times with special shampoo. Although she wasn't adopted yesterday, there's been interest from rescue groups as well as private adopters and I'm pretty sure she'll be out of the shelter for good very soon.

Hope the same thing happens to this sweet thing who somehow wasn't picked yesterday:

Altogether, 14 dogs and 3 cats found new homes this time and this 2-week-old kitten is being fostered by a volunteer who carried her around inside her sweatshirt all day. (I must remember to wear my reading glasses when taking photos. Trust me, in person this kitten is in focus.)

OK, no photo of my legs, but how about my feet? Here's the first photo I ever took on my cell phone - it's me, at work. I don't remember what I was reading.

Please email me if you can figure it out.

Beware of this cat?

I've been friends with Tom for about thirteen years, ever since he looked like this:





When Tom was two years old, I made him promise to take me to his high school prom. For about a year he agreed to do it, then one day when I reminded him, he said, "No! You're too old."



But he did agree to come along on Saturday to help pick up a dog and a cat from the same city shelter and then deliver them to two different locations. Upon arriving at the shelter, Tom immediately made friends with a little dog one of the volunteers had brought outside.


He even got a kiss:





No matter how early I get to the shelter, it seems the paperwork always takes a little longer than expected and we had to make it to our first stop by 1:00pm, to drop off this female Lab:




We were so excited about the great parking space I got, right in front of the building, that as we loaded the furry passengers into my car, neither of us noticed the poop on the curb. Oh well.

(No photo of poop. Hope you don't mind.)

As I have no idea how to use that Bluetooth thing, I had Tom call ahead to let the kennel know we might be running late, but we made it at 12:59pm and this friendly dog is now right next door to the two Lab brothers I dropped off Thursday, all available through labsandbuddies.org.




Since we were close to my office, we decided to pick up lunch and then stop by before delivering the cat. As we walked back toward my car with our sandwiches, Tom headed for the driver's side. I found this very confusing so he had to explain to me, "I'm holding the door for you. I'm being polite." When was the last time you saw a kid do that? Wow!

At the office, my colleague Timmy was about to open the carrier when I warned him this cat might not be friendly. Supposedly his owners turned him in because he was vicious and attacked them in their sleep.




Jane, a volunteer, saw him in isolation and felt terrible that he didn't have a chance to be adopted by a member of the public. She put out the word, via email, to rescue groups and sure enough someone offered to take this monster.



Hardly the face of ferocious.

Next, we headed out to meet his rescuer at 2:30pm at a Starbucks just off the freeway. Fearing he might try to run away in the parking lot, we decided we'd all go into the restroom to transfer him to the rescuer's carrier, but an employee told us we couldn't bring an animal inside. Inconvenient, but nice to know they have health code policies in place. We ended up using the grooming room of a nearby Petco, where this guy made no attempt to run away.

Now named Gus, he is off to a wonderful new life.



In fact, his rescuer, Madelon, wrote us that night:

Gus is the sweetest cat I have ever met. All he wants to do is cuddle. He is as friendly as can be. He is not afraid of dogs. I had company tonight and he greeted everyone with love and kitty bumps on the leg. What a doll!

Tom and I then went back to Starbucks for Frappuccinos. There was a new guy behind the counter who took an extra minute to make Tom's drink, not that we even noticed or cared, but the manager insisted on giving us a coupon for a free drink. Saturday night was Tom's sister's 17th birthday party. He gave her the free drink card as a gift.

Thanks to Tom, Andrea, Jane, Chela, Madelon, Laura, Laura Beth and probably a few others I'm not aware of for these two rescues.

Although he has now fulfilled his school's community service commitment, Tom is looking forward to volunteering again. And I went home and put my sneakers into my washing machine.

Off the rack...

Years ago, when I was working at Vogue, an editor asked me to get a white linen Issey Miyake shirt off a rack in the hallway. Seemed simple enough until I discovered it was one of about 20 white linen shirts on the rack, all prototypes without labels. Issey Miyake, Isaac Mizrahi... it may as well have been a shelf of 20 unlabeled videotapes and I was asked to guess which plain white box contained Gone with the Wind. That editor was so annoyed.

And yet, even I know you don't wear a boa with white shoes after Labor Day. Oh, Lisa, you will never win a fashion award like this:

Actually, this guy (girl?) was brought in to the shelter as a stray. A stray? What, someone left their door open and this thing slithered out onto Ventura Boulevard and into Cold Stone Creamery? I hope this boa gets rescued. I hope I get asked to drive it somewhere. I hope its new owners name it Feather.

Meanwhile, this young female German Shepherd and I took a ride out to Azusa this weekend. Thanks to Jane, Andrea and Chela, she's made it out of the shelter. And thanks to Maria and Adele, she'll be with German Shepherd Rescue of Orange County until she finds a permanent home.

And yes, she has one crooked paw, but that's good. Now you can tell her apart from the other designer Shepherds on the rack.