Little Fish, Big River, Bigger City

Have you ever done anything completely out of the blue, for no reason at all, simply because you had a gut feeling about it? I recently pulled off such a stunt. Here's how it went down.

LoLo was away for the day running errands and keeping appointments on a sunny Saturday. This left me to my own devices for an inordinate amount of time without supervision. I wandered up to my local bank to deposit a check. As I stepped away from the ATM, I noticed that the girlscouts who had been posted outside of Starbucks down the block had taken things up a notch. What used to be a simple operation consisting of a few girls, a couple of moms and about thirty cases of cookies, now seemed to be nothing short of a multi-national, publicly traded company. Being an entrepreneur at heart, I just had to check it out.

Upon closer inspection, these were no girlscouts, no...this was something much cooler. It was a pile of volunteers from The Milo Foundation, complete with several dogs up for adoption. The Milo Foundation is a no-kill animal shelter from the small Northern California town of Ukiah and they had been able to set up a temporary adoption center outside of Starbucks for the day. As I looked at some extremely cute puppies being hugged by happy children whose parents were busily filling out adoption paperwork, a small black and white dog trembled under the table as she peered at me with one blue eye and one brown eye.

Being a sucker for animals needing adoption, I urged the little one to come out and say hi. She immediately hugged her body in close to mine as if to say "oh please, save me, just get me out of here, I'm terrified!" She had a calm demeanor very similar to that of the incredibly wonderful and world famous AxL The Dog. Speaking of, AxL seemed rather tolerant of me petting the little one. They touched noses as the small dog continued to shyly shiver out of fear from all the commotion.

I spoke with the volunteers for a bit and it turned out that I could "foster" the dog for a week and in fact, it would really help them out. I thought I might want to adopt the dog as I had heard that getting a younger dog can really perk up an older dog in addition to alleviating some of the health problems that can set in with old age.

About as fast as you can say, "Just fill out this paperwork.." I was walking down the street with two dogs while silently dreading how to broach the subject with an unreachable LoLo. I figured if I called and left her a message that it would ease her into the whole idea while she drove home from where she was about an hour away. I then quadruple guessed my original intentions and left her another message saying that I was actually now taking the dog back that I had previously decided to foster for a week. Something told me to foster/adopt the dog for a week but something else told me that I might not be ready for another dog. It turns out I needn't have worried on either account.

Around 4:45 p.m. on Saturday, March 23, 2003, LoLo arrived at the scene of the crime. I held my breath as she walked through my door to witness a shy but tail wagging dog named Venus. "OOOOH!!!! SHE'S ADORABLE!!!!" came the response that surprised me to no end. "YOU'RE NOT TAKING HER BACK!!!!! WE'RE KEEPING HER!!!! SHE'S MY DOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

And that was that.

Little Venus has now been around for the last week and I must say it feels really good to see a dog go from a shelter-life to being able to run on the beach every morning, taking a long walk every lunch and going for another big run at the park or the beach every evening. She oozes happiness and despite freaking out at most every imaginable thing from stairs to buses to basketballs bouncing, she's doing better bit by bit. At home, she's quiet and spend much of her time snoring louder than AxL does. She's smart and cute beyond compare and when there's another dog to chase, she's turbo-charged. Over the last weekend, we drove up to Lake Tahoe so she could experience snow for the first time while AxL could revel in the chilly environment that he loves so much. Despite getting so cold that she began to shiver, her bubbling happiness was more than apparent as she raced across snowfields and among huge trees, smelling the smells and seeing the sights. In the late afternoon, we drove down from the snow covered meadows to the deep blue lake shore where other dogs were playing fetch out into the water. Venus, being part "McNab" (a Scottish herding dog similar to an Australian Cattle dog) was a zealous zippy thing as she chased, barked and coralled the dogs into what she felt was where they needed to be. She chased and barked and chased and barked and eventually splashed about out into the lake. When she begain shivering, it was time to go. Meanwhile, AxL was thoroughly enjoying the fresh mountain air and the spectacle of Venus chasing amok at breakneck speeds.

All said and done, we drove away from the mountains as a refreshed and tired and happy group. I thought back about what had happened because of a simple spur of the moment decision. A small, young life had been saved from an uncertain end, new spunk had been brought into an old dog's life and LoLo is happier than I ever thought she could be with something so simple as her own dog. A small snore emanated from the floorboards of the car where a snoring Venus slept away as we drove down from the mountains. As night fell, the mercury was dropping, soon the sun would appear and Venus would be rising to enthusiastically greet another day of newfound freedom while bringing so much to our lives with her entertaining personality and sometimes kooky antics that add the spice to her otherwise sweet disposition.

So, what did I learn from all of this? First, I learned that sometimes all of our fears are unfounded. I feared that adopting this dog would be entirely the wrong thing to do yet it's turned out to be a breath of fresh air. Second, as I fretted over the initial adoption at Starbucks, I expressed my concerns about AxL feeling jealous and me not giving the new dog enough love. A complete stranger made a statement that I'll never forget as it's been on my mind ever since: "The heart knows no bounds in love. You can love more than one dog just as parents can love more than one child." It's funny how something seemingly routine, like making a deposit at the bank, ended up changing my entire outlook on life despite my typical "inlook," so often fraught with self-doubt. You know, you start out your day, you plan it all out and next thing you know, a stray dog and the words of a stranger turn everything on its ear.

It's been awhile since my last journal entry here. A lot has happened in the meantime, but the enlightening event which derailed my train of thought was none other than yours truly spending an evening dancing the Tango Of Death with food poisoning as a seductive partner/femme fatale...almost.

Recently, I gave in to a weakness and ordered buffalo wings at a local pizza joint. Sure, they seemed a bit rubbery and raw, but I was on a writing assignment and was trying to down them in a hurry so I figured I'd risk it and just stuff my face as fast as I could much to the utter disgust of LoLo who had to endure watching me eat like a starving, ravenous pig.

I finished, wiped the slimy sauce from my fingers and we left for the jazz club where a local band was playing. I'm working for free part-time for a tv pilot by writing up interviews and small scripts for the hosts to read. The pilot is about behind the scenes entertainment in the Bay Area from movies to bands to the ballet. LoLo got me the job as she landed the job as one of the two co-hosts. If the show gets picked up by a local station, we hope to be paid for our efforts but in the meantime, it's a blast to get out of the house and go catch the entertainment while feeling like I'm actually working at becoming a writer.

Fast forward 24 hours. LoLo has an out of town guest and decides to show her a good time. Other friends are called and it's decided that we're going to hit my absolute favorite place in San Francisco at the moment: Mas Sake, a freestyle, loud and boisterous sushi bar/cool kid hang out. It's part nightclub, part sushi restaurant and it's worth every penny simply for the entertainment of people watching some of the Bay Area's most incredible dorks who think they are the hottest thing since unleaded gas. I mean we're talking guys that dress as if they just came off the movie set of zoolander. You wonder if they are just dressing that way to be funny, but no....they're seriously dressed this way.

A couple of hours before the Mas Sake Rendevous, I ran five miles pretty hard for marathon training. I then had a small stomach ache and a bit of an aching body/chills. I chalked it up to running farther and faster than I have in years. Then it's "go time" and I had to get dressed up for the evening in something other than basketball shorts, a sweatshirt and high-tops. As I showered and changed, queaziness enveloped me like fog taking over the Golden Gate bridge. I kept shrugging it off, but it stuck like velcro. I blamed the "cytomax" recovery drink I had post-run. I barfed it up and decided that now it was out of my system I'd be fine.

I strolled to LoLo's where everyone was meeting to catch a cab. I borrowed her bathroom for a little more light "expulsion" and headed to the cab, slightly sweating, slightly shivering. We arrived on the scene and went inside to get drinks at the bar while waiting for a table. Sweat began to drip down my sideburns that don't exist, i.e. "sidebares." The smell of tempura and the sight of sugary alcoholic drinks and leftover sushi on tables near us sent my olfactory senses derailing off a mad rollercoaster. I had to hit the restroom and fast. This next part is not pretty, but it IS highly informative as it serves as a warning on why you should never eat buffalo wings that verge on the raw side of the road.

The only downside to Mas Sake is that there is one restroom for each of the sexes. In other words, only one of the sexes may enter one of the restrooms at a time. I stood my turn behind two freakily (it's a word if you're feeling poisoned) dressed males in frosted sunglasses with open shirts. What seemed like hours later, I was next. The smell of deep fried everything came roaring from the kitchen into my nasal passages with "shock and awe."

As the seconds ticked away, I knew I was going to go down hard. The room was turning gray as I fought to keep from passing out. Sweat poured from my forehead and sounds were a dull din in the background as I were watching a movie where our hero is reeling from a blow to the skull. I thought about my options, perhaps I could race through the kitchen and out the backdoor to an alley. I knew that I was going to let fly and let fly hard any moment...I was seasick and clenching my teeth to hold everything back.

Miracle of miracles, the restroom door opened and an International Male Model stepped out after what must have been a thirty minute grooming session despite me pounding on the door urging him to get a move on. I raced in, undoing pants with one hand while grabbing the garbage can with the other. Pure intestinal fury unleashed herself from my innermost plumbing systems with a rage that made scenes from "The Exorcist" look like another happy day on "Romper Room" in comparison. As I fought to stay conscious despite my eyeballs falling out of my skull from the pressure exerted by my unearthly exploits, I thought about how fortunate I was to have made it inside the restroom. Had Mr. International Male taken even three seconds longer, I would've cleared the restaurant in a massive stampede as hipsters fled before the hellish, raging fury that had subdued my otherwise zenlike demeanor. This is what it's like to be poisoned...every cell in my body reeled with an odd pain, I was cold, I was hot, my shirt was soaked in sweat as if I'd taken a dip in a swimming pool for fun en route to the restroom. Goofy looking males with full bladders now pounded on the door as I had done.

"Yea, yea, hold on!!!" I feebly yelled as I gathered myself up and pushed my moppy wet hair back onto my head. I shoved the garbage can back into place, rinsed my face off and my mouth out, gently buckled my belt over a boiling belly button and stepped out of the door to apologize to the enormous line that I had felt ill. I'm sure they figured I'd had too much to drink when in fact, I'd had nothing but water for the last five hours. I returned to my gang and stated that I had to go home and fast. Of course they didn't quite understand and said "eat something, you'll be fine! Mind over matter!!!" Yea, right. Normally, that would be true, but not in this case. I grabbed a cab home with an angel driver who was kind enough to let me stop off at a convenience store for a six-pack of 7-up. I got home, crawled under every blanket I had while shivering and set about spending the rest of the evening fighting to stay conscious, to stay in this world while my body shuddered from pain, cold and hot faster than a disgruntled couch potato can channel surf.

Eventually, hour upon hour later, I was coming out of it. LoLo had showed up at some point and bravely administered Pepto-bismol which didn't have much of an effect for another 24 hours. Monday arrived and a surreal health came with it. For the next few days, I felt as if I wasn't really here but I was merely dreaming everything that I was doing. By Tuesday, I ran another five miles and the increased heart rate from exercise seemed to make me feel real again. Finally, by Thursday I was totally normal except for one small thought: "That was close."

I didn't admit it to Nurse LoLo taking care of me, but I was barely hanging in there. I've been sick before, desperately sick. I'd even had food poisoning a few times before with one of those times landing me in the emergency room. This time was different only in that I didn't even have the strength or will of mind to get to the emergency room. I feared passing out as the room went grey time after time as I didn't know if I'd wake up again. It's hard to know what I'm talking about unless you've lived through it and if you haven't lived through food poisoning, I wouldn't advise you go out and hook up with it unless you're suicidal. Until then, you can call me Ralph.