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Shock waves rippled across 7th and Montana this morning as word spread that Peanut, the beloved terrier-rodent mix who wanders from table-to-table at Our Favorite Starbucks, was dog-napped. Evidently, a little old lady from Hungary, known for pushing a cart around the neighborhood, grabbed the happy-go-lucky pooch and fled the scene when she thought no one was looking. She removed Peanut's identification tag and collar, threw them in the trash and hid Peanut along with six other "missing" dogs in a secret, dung-infested lair behind 10th Street. Fortunately, Peanut's owner, Gary, saved the day with some brilliant detective work. He tracked the woman down and was able to get Peanut back, unharmed. Rumor has it the woman -- a local Cruella de Vil -- routinely steals dogs in the hopes of getting a reward. She allegedly waits for the owners to post a sign offering a reward, then calls to collect it. I hope she gets worms ...!
My family has a lot to be thankful for this Memorial Day. My father is slowly continuing his recovery, step-by-step. Literally, he is learning how to walk and talk again thanks to six hours of intense therapy a day at his new rehab facility. Today, he went outside to celebrate Memorial Day, complete with flags that my nephew Jackson made for the family back in Boston. They even formed their own parade around the grounds at the rehab center.
When I look back over the past few months, I'm amazed at how far my father has come. He can talk now, but he has trouble carrying on an in-depth conversation. I think if he could fully express himself, he'd say we have to treasure each moment, appreciate our loved ones, honor our heroes not just today, but every day. My father is fighting hard to come back to us -- "We won't be defeated!," he told my mom -- and I know he means it. That makes him a hero in my book!
Ever wonder where the Loons flock to when they're not at 7th and Montana? They head several blocks southwest to the Starbucks on Wilshire. News reports this morning suggest that an Anonymous Nutcase -- a visitor from Hollywood -- walked up to a fellow customer and began punching the top of his head for no apparent reason. Then he skedaddled out the door and into the waiting arms of the police who arrested him on charges of battery. Maybe it's time this Nutcase switched to something without caffeine. How's about a nice, Hawaiian Punch ...?
I'm sure you've all been wondering, with my mind mostly on my father's recovery, what type of Loon would it take to inspire me to post a routine 7th and Montana update. Ladies and Gentlemen, meet 'Mavis,' an eccentric newcomer who made the scene on Sunday with one foot in the Great Beyond. "Howdy," she rasped, "My name is Mavis and I've been resurrected." I whipped out my Spycam and avoided making eye contact. Her voice was so low, she sounded like Mr. T on acid. "My eyes," she shrieked at an unsuspecting young woman, "What do you think of my eyes?" "Th-th-they're beautiful," said the young woman. "No they're NOT," yelled Hazel, "They're HIDEOUS. HIDEOUS, I tell you ...!" At this point, the conversation became mostly one-sided. Mavis ranted and raved her way back to her car, got behind the wheel and cackled up a storm as she raced up 7th Street. I'll say one thing, if that's her 'second coming,' I'm not waiting around for a third ...!
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