One summer afternoon when I was sixteen, I took my usual walk from my house on North Rodeo Drive and made a left angle across the park onto North Beverly to go shopping. Back then Rodeo Drive was nothing but a typical small town street. There was a hardware store, bicycle shop, stationery store, market, toy store and several restaurants. Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Dolce and Gabbana and all the other high end shops were to come much later. It certainly was not the shopping mecca that it is today.
Just as I was about to enter the crosswalk, an adorable little puppy began to follow me. I turned around and walked back the other way, hoping the little dog would get his bearings and go home. After trying two or three times, I decided to continue in the direction I had been walking. After all, at sixteen, what could be more important than shopping?
Toting several hours worth of shopping bags and about to cross the intersection of Beverly Drive and Santa Monica Boulevard on my way home, I looked down to see that same little puppy gazing up at me. Had he been waiting where I’d left him all this time? I didn’t want him to get any more lost than he already was, but maybe if I let him, he would lead me to his owner.
Well, that didn’t work. When we got to my house, I was so excited at the prospect of having a new little companion of my own that I asked my…