ahream

You’d think L.A. wildlife would mostly be limited to the crazy homeless lady in the orange hat who screams at me as I run down Venice Beach in the mornings. But as it turns out, our urban metropolis is teaming with furry, fanged and clawed creatures, and some of them aren’t even human.

Take, for instance, last Saturday. I jogged out my front door at 4:45 a.m.* happy to have the city to myself before the blond, tanned hordes descended on the 47 coffee shops along my running route. When suddenly, something way bigger than a squirrel darted in front of me and into a bush.

Me: (slightly alarmed) “What was that?”

Okay, you know the sound that Dracula would make with his long, yellowed fingernails as he climbed up the side of your house and used his fanged teeth to rip through your window screens? Yeah, I heard that. And it was coming from the tree over my head.

Me: (way beyond hysterical) “Holy freaking Christ! What the f*&k was that?!!”

Answer – Opossum.

Easily big enough to eat the average house cat, the furry beast stared down at me from its newly climbed limb, flicked its hairless tail and – I’m pretty sure about this – flipped me the finger.

I was dissed by a woodland creature.

And it’s not just me. My husband swears he once came home very late from work to find a raccoon the size of a Doberman going through the garbage. Far from running at his approach, the raccoon reared back on its hind legs, paws on hips and said, “What are you looking at, b*&ch? That’s right. That’s right. Keep walking, punk!”

I have the distinct feeling that our place at the top of the food chain is no longer secure. In my head, the booming-voiced movie preview guy is talking. “They’re here. They’re pissed. They’re rabid. This ain’t the Hundred Acre Wood. Get used to it.”

Frankly, I’m a little scared.

*Yes, it was still dark. Yes, I’m insane. Yes, I promise to seek treatment as soon as possible. Oh, and if you’re my mother, yes, I wore reflective clothing and obeyed all traffic signals.

ahream Dispatches from the City of Angels I'm a mystery writer living in and writing about Los Angeles. You can catch my short story, "Running Venice," in the new anthology LAndmarked for Murder. Look for it in bookstores and on Amazon.com now. In the meantime, feel free to poke around. Over at my website you can find even more blog entries than I could fit here, as well as a few other ramblings. Enjoy and come back often.
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Previous Entry :: Next Entry Read/Post Comments (3) Most Recent Twitters: A 3-foot long alligator was found walking down the middle of the street in Venice Beach this morning. I love L.A. In case you were wondering, it is very difficult to get a hummingbird out of your house. They are irrational and prone to hysterics. L.A. Finds: The Nickel Diner on Main between 5th and 6th is a made-to-look-old, throwback of a place that melds into the old downtown and is, at the same time, part of the renaissance. They serve their burgers medium, their soda in bottles and offer all they can to locals in need. Flickr Updates: The second Thursday of every month is the Downtown Art Walk. The galleries stay open late, the restaurants are packed, bands perform on the streets. God, I love L.A. What I'm Reading: Attack of the Unsinkable Rubber Ducks by Christopher Brookmyre What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami Want E-Mail Updates? Click here, type your e-mail address into the first field (for public entries) and receive an e-mail note each time a new blog post goes up. (Photo updates, Twitters and "L.A. Finds" features not included. Those you have to swing by and check yourself.) Absolutely, positively no spam. Promise. Other author blogs: Sue Ann Jaffarian Eric Stone Christa Faust Lipstick Chronicles		2006-08-02 4:00 PM When woodland creatures attack You’d think L.A. wildlife would mostly be limited to the crazy homeless lady in the orange hat who screams at me as I run down Venice Beach in the mornings. But as it turns out, our urban metropolis is teaming with furry, fanged and clawed creatures, and some of them aren’t even human. Take, for instance, last Saturday. I jogged out my front door at 4:45 a.m.* happy to have the city to myself before the blond, tanned hordes descended on the 47 coffee shops along my running route. When suddenly, something way bigger than a squirrel darted in front of me and into a bush. Me: (slightly alarmed) “What was that?” Okay, you know the sound that Dracula would make with his long, yellowed fingernails as he climbed up the side of your house and used his fanged teeth to rip through your window screens? Yeah, I heard that. And it was coming from the tree over my head. Me: (way beyond hysterical) “Holy freaking Christ! What the f&k was that?!!” Answer – Opossum. Easily big enough to eat the average house cat, the furry beast stared down at me from its newly climbed limb, flicked its hairless tail and – I’m pretty sure about this – flipped me the finger. I was dissed by a woodland creature. And it’s not just me. My husband swears he once came home very late from work to find a raccoon the size of a Doberman going through the garbage. Far from running at his approach, the raccoon reared back on its hind legs, paws on hips and said, “What are you looking at, b&ch? That’s right. That’s right. Keep walking, punk!” I have the distinct feeling that our place at the top of the food chain is no longer secure. In my head, the booming-voiced movie preview guy is talking. “They’re here. They’re pissed. They’re rabid. This ain’t the Hundred Acre Wood. Get used to it.” Frankly, I’m a little scared. *Yes, it was still dark. Yes, I’m insane. Yes, I promise to seek treatment as soon as possible. Oh, and if you’re my mother, yes, I wore reflective clothing and obeyed all traffic signals. Read/Post Comments (3) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top