7-19-00 W 2:59 PM

We picked up the puppy this morning. She seems to be a black field spaniel/ retriever mix. She whimpered all the way home. I think she must have been carsick. She retched up some slimy kibble. When we brought her into the house, she didn’t seem to know which way to go at first. She sniffed one corner before catching the scent of the kitchen, but then something else caught her attention and she turned another way, loping along clumsily, walking sideways, falling down. I lay down on the couch to read the paper. She struggled to pull herself up, succeeded, stomped over my paper, and lay on my shoulder. Soon we were both asleep.

The phone rang and woke me. I was supposed to go for a bike ride, but I didn’t feel like it. I’m lazy and tired today. I don’t know why. I got up before eight this morning. Put five lines to Jim. Then I walked down Hudson and got the papers. I ate cereal for breakfast and peanut butter for lunch [color photo of Wrigley Field from behind home plate, looking across the diamond to centerfield, the ivy, the bleachers, the scoreboard, and the high-rises beyond]

I have to go to night school in ninety minutes. I don’t feel like lifting weights today. I should take a shower. I guess I’ll read some Miller when I’m done here. My fingers smell like puppy. What else? The puppy was spayed yesterday. She has been sleepy all day. We’re thinking of calling her Louisiana, Lulu for short. I have to do that third-person page. We’re still in the traffic-stop flashback. That’s Sammy Sosa to the left in that picture. He would later homer in that game which was July second. Lance Armstrong is winning the Tour de France. Now that I teach evenings around the corner at LA High, I’ll be losing twenty miles of bike riding each week. [sad face]