Banana Splits- The Universal Answer to Life's Problems

Almost three years ago, my best friend Kimberly called me. "I've got lung cancer." No preamble, no "Guess what, I went to the doctor because I was coughing and he ran some tests and..." Nothing to cushion that very, very weighty phrase. She lives in San Diego, so I was on a plane within 48 hours. The next day we sat in the oncologist's office and listened as he confirmed the diagnosis and outlined treatment options. Sort of listened. Just like a thousand other recipients of this information, we didn't hear much except the two words "lung cancer."

We left the office and drove to D.Z. Akins, an old-school New York deli with a menu thick as a Newsweek magazine. Only one thing on the menu spoke to both of us, however. Kimberly tells the waitress, "I just found out I have lung cancer - bring us a banana split, will you?" The waitress' face changed from shock that a customer would drop this on her - just like Kimberly did with me - to sympathy. She went out of her way, apparently, because she returned with the most magnificent banana split ever created. Or so it seemed to us. We laughed as we ate, because we still didn't believe she had cancer. Not really.

Banana splits became our touchstone when I flew down as often as I could to be with her. This ice cream delicacy was also our answer to every highlight and lowlight of this journey.

Last night, Kimberly and I had a banana split. She was in San Diego and I was up here in Santa Cruz, but we synched it so we would be eating them at the same time. It was my turn to give the waitress a reason for my order. "My friend just found out she's cancer-free, so make it a really good one." It was the best banana split ever.

Designer Dogs?

Purebreds–they're all designer dogs, if you think about it. Some designs make sense. Hunting dogs, herding dogs and guard dogs, for example. But a Chinese Crested Hairless? Is this some warped mind's idea of canine eugenics? Besides this poor little dog's freakish appearance, it's also dangerously vulnerable to the elements. Adopt, people. Adopt!

Our Dog, Who Art in Heaven

This is what I want heaven to be: I get squashed by a 10-ton truck or something, anything so I die really fast. Maybe there's time for the White Light, maybe not. I wake up all peaceful and whatnot, scanning the scenery of green pastures and white clouds. That cliche´d view of heaven works just fine. And there they are - every dog I've ever loved bounds up to me. Alice Siebold described a heaven like this in her remarkable novel, The Lovely Bones. But honestly? There's a lot of people I loved and have been loved by on this earth that I don't particularly want to see again on the other side of the Pearly Gates. Like my parents. Yep, I'd rather spend the rest of my afterlife with Brigette, Cruiser, People, Napolean - even Cognac, who bit me on the face when I woke him up too fast. I was a child, he was a small dog - not a good combo.

Crazy Chihuahua Lady

What turned me from a big-dog lover to a small-dog lover? I mean, I love 'em all, but somewhere along the line I crossed over from German Shepherds to Chihuahuas. Right now, I'm surrounded by three little guys whose combined weight barely challenges your average Jack Russell terrier. They're starting to call me the Chihuahua Lady. No, make that the Crazy Chihuahua Lady. That's okay, everyone needs an identity.