but my appetite is never lost for long

this weekend i'm dogsitting these huge, badly behaved, sweetie golden retrievers in an envy-inducing oakland hills cottage. they're both well over a hundred pounds and have a problem with jumping up and mouthing people's hands. i got up here late this afternoon and let them bound out into the backyard while i brought my stuff inside and got settled. after a while the dogs got suspiciously quiet so i went out to check on them. one was innocently lying there gumming his oversized tennis ball, and the other was in a corner staring intently at something - a dying, weakly flapping little bird, it looked to me from that angle. she wouldn't come when i called her, so, naturally, i started freaking out and went back inside. i tried luring them inside by getting dinner for them, but in my jittery state i poured food into a bowl that had an inch of water in it. they wouldn't come anyway; this dying creature was far more interesting.

so i made a couple of pointless calls to friends with dogs - can you get them inside? one of them asked. but what if they bring the bird in here? says i. uhhh, yeah, i don't know what to tell you, dear, came the verdict. i paced and felt queasy and guilty and utterly lame. the poor critter's chances of survival did not look good, but i didn't think i was quite up to going out there, dragging the dog off, and then whacking the creature with a shovel to end its misery. i looked out a different window as i thought about what to do, and realized it was some sort of mole creature [CAUTION: do not click that link if you do not want to lose your appetite], not a birdie. it didn't look too good but was trying to scuttle away blindly, bumping into things and not going back into the huge hole the dog had presumably dug it from. i went back out, yelled 'OFF!!' and she obediently, if reluctantly, came over to me. i got both dogs inside, shut them in the kitchen, fed them and went back outside to survey the damage.

the creature was busily digging away underneath what looked like that plastic you put under gravel or flagstones (what i'd initially confused with outspread birds' wings). i hope it's OK or that it dies a quick death deep, deep inside the earth's crust from where these bloodthirsty canines cannot excavate it tomorrow. bluh, that would be even more disgusting than seeing the thing getting tossed in the air and chased around the yard this afternoon. i am not treating this as an omen for the weekend. the dogs are now inside happily ripping their plush toys to shreds.

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last night i met M for a glass of wine (or three) at the st regis hotel, where we were treated to our last round by a manic entrepreneur who, while very nice, was really very forward and one of those guys who talks constantly about himself, occasionally interrupting himself to say, 'but enough about me, what about you ladies?' (complete with smarmy lifted eyebrow) before charging right back in with the me me me. about halfway through that third glass, when i had to admit that nibbling at a tiny dish of wasabi peas did not even begin to approximate dinner, M suddenly said very seriously, 'let's go.' i don't think we even said goodbye or thanked mr man in our haste to leave. she spent some time trying to detoxify in the bathroom as i listed on the couch outside. they must have been extra-large glasses of wine? maybe it was the lack of dinner? but i didn't realize until that point just how whoa, drunk i was. M had certainly poisoned herself. i made her get in a cab and then i hopped BART and ate cold leftovers before falling asleep with all my clothes on. ugh, how old am i again?