Wednesday, May 15, 2013


 thrifted tank dress, choker from etsy, rosary earring c/o my salvation, bag from army surplus, shoes from santee alley

What a day! Time to get personal.

I woke up to get an oil change (boo) but met a nice homeless man on the way who must have been roasting outside because the LA heat is insane right now. I gave him money and he was bummed that I was married. (I am not married.) Anyway, how nice, whatever; I felt good about helping him out. Karma +1.
Oil is getting changed, and I decide to walk two of my dogs for the duration of the car fix-up. Nice again, right? Karma +2. Sticky was super excited to explore a different neighborhood and was doing her little dance-on-two-feet thing that she does. Five minutes into our exploration of Lincoln Heights, Sticky's happiness level went from a ten to a negative ten. Out of nowhere she began to slam her face against the pavement and cry while violently sneezing and clawing at her nose. I picked her up in a panic only to notice she had multiple foxtails stuck to her fur on her face, and one STICKING OUT OF HER LEFT NOSTRIL. You know what foxtails are, right? These. Dry, prickly, sharp pieces of horror. I tried to remove it in the midst of her demoniac sneezing but managed to barely touch it before it got pushed in further with her inhale until it was no longer visible. Mind you, Sticky's snout is MAYBE an inch and a half long. The foxtail was at least an inch long. I about had a panic attack and ran her back to the car place only to have to wait 20 more minutes because my car was literally hanging in the air. I couldn't get into the drivers seat even if I wanted to peel out of that place and rush to the vet. So, I wait, with the dogs, panicking, as I am being informed that I will need to buy two new tires because mine will blow at any time.

Blah blah, took her to the vet finally and they had to put her out with anesthesia so they could get into her tiny perfect nose. Apparently she sucked it in so hard that they think she swallowed it. Or that's what they hope.

Why am I telling you this story? Because I think I did a darn good job hiding my hysteria whilst taking these photos. I met up with boyfriend in Hollywood while Stick was at the vet and he snapped these pictures while blowing bubbles into the palm trees across the street to cheer me up until I could hear the thankful prognosis. 

Here she is after she got home from the vet. Lethargic and distraught.




  1. Oh no, this little story was so terrible, to some it may seem a little over dramatic but seeing my little dog go through this would be horrific. Glad it all turned out ok :)


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  3. poor sticky. good zach.

    I am so glad she's ok now tho. woof. poor bb.

  4. You look amazing, love the dress xx

  5. Poor lil' love! She looks a lot happier now. xxx