Sitcom Dog

"It's a comedy."
"No, it isn't."
"Yes, it is."
"For God's Sake, John, on Page 14 a woman gets beheaded and her flesh gets eaten. This is NOT a comedy!"

These are the snippets of converstions The Great Plotnik hears as he walks with Mischief, Ducknik, The Great PunkyDunky and The Great FiveHead in Runyon Canyon, primo dogwalking and Hollywood Gossip spot in Stiletto City.

A guy walking a weimerauner sees an emaciated woman in a pink "I Love Music" T-Shirt stroll by -- he says to his girl friend: "Hey, wasn't that the girl in, you know, that sitcom with the, you know, the thing about the, hey, remember?

Plotnik looks up and sees Tim Roth. "Hello, Mr. Roth."

Tim Roth nods. The great Honey Bunny man from Pulp Fiction is walking some kind of designer dog.

Mischief is both impressed and in heaven. He sniffs at the rear end of all dogs, designer dog, Hollywood dog, sitcom dog, even the rare mutt. There are hundreds of dogs here, breeds rarely seen, breeds who do dogfood commercials and breeds who chase mailmen for Toyota, and there are also Two Day Views of Stiletto City -- which is to say there are two days during the entire year when the yellow crap clears away enough to enjoy this magnificent vista. It's a crystal-clear afternoon, with views to the sea on all sides, and stunning realizations of the size of Stiletto City's Urban Dogpound.

The skyscape and philosophy are lost on Mischief, but not the romance. He is in his element, hanging with his crewe of pooches, all intensely interested in rear ends, and peeing. When he lifts his leg, the sitcom dogs and designer dogs all run up to check it out. When they lift theirs, Mischief, like a somellier sniffing a cork on a rare vintage, barks in appreciation.

Personally, The Great Plotnik thinks Mischief is the handsomest guy here. But he appears to have Hollywood Disease: he falls in love too easily, albeit temporarily. He is fascinated with by the rear end of a large, speckled greyhound female. What is he thinking? What does he propose to do about it, having been neutered like a trombone player who now delivers pizza?

The Great Plotnik finds his mind wandering to the sitcom Mischief will one day write about Runyan Canyon, and the song they'll choose for the theme. "Sometimes When We Touch" --was that Dan Hill? --pops into his head.

"Sometimes When We Touch
Your Butthole's a Bit Much
So I Have to Close My Eyes
And Aroooowooooo."

Little sanity left. Driving home tomorrow.