Topanga Messenger, February 16, 2004

It was late in the afternoon when I received the call.  I had worked with this woman for many years, addressing her cat population problem, finding homes for kittens and their almost feral mothers. Indeed, on one occasion I dragged my husband and his friend, just  in form the east coast,  to her Topanga cabin to attempt  de-worming and health checks. Two grown men and one animal nurse were outfoxed and outrun by about thirty feral kittens, mothers and males. They seemed to defy the laws of  gravity, not only climbing the walls but  actually running on the ceiling too!  Fighting inappropriate light and numerous hiding holes we managed to de worm only one mother.  Only a cat net would eventually work on this colony. 
     But today's call was not about a cat. It concerned one of the many dogs also living on the property. The initial story was that the dog had gone under a hot truck and was severely burned. Hurrying over to rush the dog to the vet, a quick check revealed no burns but a broken leg and possibly punctured lung. The dog was in bad shape. Different stories were given to me by three different people, all under the influence. As they argued amongst themselves, I struggled to explain that the dog needed a vet immediately. Eventually, I broke into their discussion and the dog got the veterinary care it needed .
     The next day I checked in to see how things were going. One of the women was extremely grateful and asked how my baby was. I told her he was fine and inquired about the dog. Under the influence again, she repeatedly asked me about my baby and again I said , that he was fine. The entire conversation about the dog was punctuated with repeated 'how's the baby?'   Eventually, as I managed my way to my car , the women kept trying to press a nesting doll in my hand.  For those of you who do not know what a Russian nesting doll is, they are  wooden bean shaped containers with painted faces and dresses that pull apart in the middle to reveal another smaller doll that pulls apart to reveal a smaller doll etc. There can be four or five of them inside each other. I realized it was a thank you gift, not an usual gesture in my line of work.  I gratefully refused but she insisted by placing the doll on my  car console as I was leaving.
      For days I drove around with the doll sitting idly in my car. The following Wednesday I attended a mommy and me class for toddlers. I had signed up for this one in the fu fu shopping area of Calabasas-- along with the mums that I marvel at having pristine clothes without one spit up on their silk blouses or any sticky substance in their wonderfully groomed hair.  Arriving late, I grabbed Jamie form the seat, gave a quick survey for a toy, saw the nesting doll and put it in my sweatshirt pouch. Moms often bring along something to amuse their little ones while waiting.
     There is generally chit chat for five minutes before the class and I was intrigued by the conversations.  I sat there sporting my Topanga Homegrown sweatshirt , proud that there was yet no hint of orange juice stains, finger marks, or drool on it--but the day was young. It was my second class and there was the still the uneasiness of the first day at school-- people getting to know each other  etc. Jamie, being an outgoing child, approached a little girl his age. She had a doll  that he was extremely interested in. We were all sitting in a circle with the kids in front of us. I pulled out the Russian doll as a 'let's share' option. This intrigued the kids. AHA! an ice breaker. Yes!   All attention was suddenly on the Russian doll. I explained that there was a doll in a doll in a doll, 'come and look.'  I then proceeded to twist apart the two halves which were not easy to open. I struggled until finally it popped open with a start and from inside the doll, four marijuana joints fell to the floor in the middle of the circle. I looked down in amazement then up at the crowd searching for words-- any words.  With a beaming red face I blurted 'Its not MINE!!! no, honest its not MINE!!!  I looked down at my Topanga Homegrown shirt and then at the Calabasas mums and thought 'now is a good time to.... leave! ' 
     I have not been back. The joke is, I've never smoked marijuana in my life. But I thought the explanation was just a bit too complicated. Hopefully, they read the Messenger in Calabasas!