I took Drama to the Puppy Park at the top of Laurel Canyon late this afternoon. I hadn't been out all weekend because my back was messed up from carting all my proofs around and then shooting Crash Hot on Thursday night. They were really, really good, btw... and I'm hoping I got some good shots of them. Admittedly, I was a little rusty. Actually, at times I felt clueless. But that's another story.
So, the dog had a great time at the park. He loves being chased around by other dogs and outsmarting them as he makes his escape. I was going to pick up something to eat on the way home but by the time we left the park it was almost eight o'clock and I decided I didn't want to eat a whole meal that late.
When I pulled into my driveway...well, that's when I saw it. Right there on my front porch, as if it was begging for someone to let it inside. It would have been different if it was on the street, or on the sidewalk, or even loitering in my driveway for Christ's sake. But on my front porch?
Jesus, this can't be good. Especially since I've been making jokes of late about possibly needing this very item if things don't go well with my book. Although I'm pretty sure I didn't make the joke to anyone close enough to my house; someone who could follow through with a cruel joke of their own. I think I said it to Brett, but he's been back in the state of Bush for at least the past ten days. Who could have done such a thing?
Maybe if I put it up here, someone will confess or give me a lead. This is it. What I saw when I pulled into my driveway:
Someone please tell me this isn't a sign of things to come.