Sunday, February 1


Back in the summer of 1999, my then-roommate, Adam and I rescued a dog. I don't mean that we went down to a shelter and saved a dog from being put to sleep... we rescued a puppy from a homeless man that had obviously taken the puppy from its mother too soon. She had fleas, tapeworm, ringworm, could hardly open her eyes, had trouble walking and had trouble eating if she wasn't bottle-fed for those first few weeks.

And what amazing weeks they were. I was working odd hours, so I stayed home with the pup in our glamorous West Hollywood pad - and I mean glam: hardwood floors, Spanish-style stucco, and it had once belonged to Jack Dempsy. She eventually turned out alright. Like most rescue pups, she was fiercely loyal, and very affectionate.

My roommate took PJ when we went our separate ways, and I was OK with that. My lifestyle after that move wouldn't have been fair to her, and he had the financial means to care for her in a manner she deserved.

PJ was - or is, I guess - a special dog. I'm guessing most dog owners say that about their canine companions. But PJ had a wacky personality, and was up for what ever crazy hijinks we threw at her... which explains the picture. She had been peeing and pooing on the hardwood floors, so we put up a little barrier to keep her out of the room when we were cleaning up. She perched her paws on the table and yelped.

"It looks like she's tending bar," Adam joked.

So we ran and found some props, and took this photo. She sat there the entire time, loving all the attention, a super trooper.

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