Lou O’ Bedlam took this, too.
Medium format, early afternoon at the Shadow Gallery.
If I were a novelist this photo would go on the back of my last book.
After being told today, again, that I need to start writing I’ll consider this.
She’s still very timid, but when I woke up this morning she was staring up at me from her bed and wagging - head to toe.
Named after my graphic pens of choice and a very small unit of measure, this was a stray 10 month chihuahua mix brought to the West LA shelter a week ago. Now she is mine, sleeping after being spayed.
I hope that, if Moo ever returns, they become the best of friends.
The text and photo are by the Lou O’ Bedlam whom I accidentally kidnapped yesterday for a day of shooting, new dog adoption and adrenaline junkie talk. His prose is fresh and it’s early and I have to get myself caffeinated and out the door so here is his text below.
—
I spent the majority of yesterday with Zoetica Ebb, techno-renaissance internet goddess extraordinaire . First at the animal shelter, as we entered into a surprise silent auction for the dog she wanted. I really thought the yuppie gay couple had it locked in, as did the 19 year old girl who burst into tears when she found out she had to fight for the dog. “But I already bought dog tags!!” We spent over an hour there, waiting for the place to open, and then another few minutes for the auction, and then the requisite 15 minute waiting period after the auction prices were entered. The gay couple seemed quite nice, they already had a few dogs, they’d come by the day before to spend some serious time with the dog we wanted. It was their game to lose.
Fortunately, when it came to the showdown, Z blew ‘em out of the water. They saw the purple hair, the back tattoo peeking out of her shirt, the car with a different colored bumper and thought she wasn’t prepared to go the distance.
But she was. We asked the Animal Services officer to presided over the auction, “that was exciting, right?” And she couldn’t help but nod and grin sheepishly.
Man, I really want a dog now.
After emerging from the place victorious, we had ourselves a celebratory brunch at Roscoe’s House of Chick’n & Waffles. And by god, it was the best food I’d had there in years. The waffle was so light, so tasty, the chicken, succulent as advertised, and it tasted like they’d added a little new something to the recipe, a new seasoning, it was so good we were forced to stop talking and just “Mmmm” to each other.
Oh, and then we did a photo shoot.
Her apartment? F.U.C.K.I.N.G. W.I.L.D. Super high ceilings meant much more room for her fresh paintings, bookshelves were filled with comics, manga, Russian books, sci-fi novels, the works of the Great Palahniuk, there were antiquated medical gear pegged on the wall, huge velvet drapes covered floor to high high high ceiling windows, the place was crack for the eyes. And her roommate wasn’t half bad, neither.
But there was a cat.
Good times, good conversation and stories to fill days of posts.
Happy monday.