Category Archives: Editorial

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Do Dogs Dream?

Posted on May 21, 2014 | Leave a comment

Of course they do. Zoe’s a herder so is always at my feet. She’s sleeping in the sunlight as I write, by me, and running in her dream.

She runs, whines, yips and seldom growls in her dreams. I always wonder what she’s doing. Is she chasing a squirrel she’ll never, in her biggest dreams, obtain?

A dog specialist years ago said that dogs live in the present and never remember anything for longer that 45 minutes. That’s not true. Zoe tried to take me to another place yesterday that we lived in for three months, over two years ago. She remembers people and dogs and places for years.

At night when the phone rings she goes to the door because she knows Daddy is coming home. Not when his Mother or Nanny call at a similar hour. The other day, she knew the Chinese food delivery guy was coming and stood at the door for nearly an hour.

If you don’t think your dog dreams, bring it into your home. Dr. Dog once said “A dog in the back yard is a dog without a home.” My dear in-laws wanted Zoe in a pen out back until my husband told them she was a house dog (after I said I wouldn’t visit). His dad cleaned a crate and placed it in the back bedroom. She used it for ten minutes, jumped up on the bed and now his mom is upset when she doesn’t visit on Thanksgiving because she watches out for the grandkids and cleans up anything we spill in a three-day cooking spree.

Another specialist said we should take her back to the shelter as she had severe hip dysplasia and needed surgery. I did the research, got two second opinions and Val The Vet operated on her twice before she was nine months old. She’s over ten years now and grew her own hips and can give any dog a run for it’s money.

Do dogs dream? I’ve always wondered what all the Greyhounds off the track in Caliente and Colorado dream. I helped name some of them and volunteered to care for them for years. Do they dream of racing? Or sleeping on a sofa instead of in a crate. Who knows. Dogs dream. When they herd you all day long and are dying to go to bed at night, they dream and you can see it. I see it, I see the squirrel! Dee

 

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Violence

Posted on May 21, 2014 | Leave a comment

I’ve worked with shelter pets for twenty years and just saw a billboard yesterday that reminded me of how important it is to report abuse of any kind.

Years ago I volunteered for a shelter that was one of the first to take and hold pets until a domestic violence situation was concluded.

Bullies/abusers usually start with small animals, turn to pets, then their children and spouse. If someone makes a call that should be answered, ahem, listen to this shelters and domestic violence agencies who probably put callers on hold, that an animal is being abused chances are the family is in danger.

Often folks don’t want to tell on their neighbors if they think there’s a problem, and even if they’re concerned city agencies don’t pick up the phone and their hours are ridiculous. No-one who works can spend an hour on the phone or longer going to a shelter and standing in line.

When I got my first shelter dog in 1991, she’d been abused by a deputy sheriff and kids threw rocks at her and her brother. I started volunteering there the day after my family’s Collie died and she’d just come in as well.

I visited Chani every week even when I was in a neck brace and couldn’t take her out. The owner came to the shelter and asked for her brother, Buddy, but he’d been adopted. He didn’t want Chani.

A year later even in a no-kill shelter there was talk of euthanasia and a fellow volunteer turned staff member let me know. Chani was home with me the next day. For a while she had aversions to anyone in uniform, also kids. We had a good life together for another ten years.

She rallied in weeks and with basic obedience and some private training was the best dog and loved kids. Uniforms were still tricky but she never attacked, only barked when our neighbor came out in his dress whites and not shorts and a t-shirt.

When she died I had to tell all the parents and kids at the park, and all the dog owners. They all bought the city a tree in her memory, a tree that is thriving and since I don’t live there anymore I’ve seen Google Earth and talked with a photographer, and also a good friend there who has promised to place a cup of water on her tree for me.

My dog was an abused dog. I don’t know how she was abused but I rehabilitated her step by step. Now I wonder if this law enforcement official “graduated” to abusing his wife and children and think how horrible a situation I may have ignored just because our neighborhood loved my dog for ten years.

I will try to get animal agencies and domestic violence agencies together but BEFORE an angry person starts beating the dog or the kids, let someone know.

Pets are the gateway to violence towards people. I want to make sure people answer the call.

Dee

 

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Credits

Posted on May 18, 2014 | 2 comments

Dog got me up at two this morning to have me lift her up to the bed. I tried to go back to sleep but couldn’t, having rested too much yesterday with an earache.

A few hours ago I saw the end of the most recent version of Little Women with Winona Ryder and Susan Sarandon.

At the end were credits for everyone who worked on the film. Not just the producers, director and actors but gaffers and catering service et al.

Don’t ask me at my age why every day is kids day and Mothers and Fathers days only come around once a year. Been there, heard that.

The producers employ everyone on a film and people are credited for their work. I’ve never been credited for my work with a decent raise or plaque or party. I organized all the work birthday parties and baby showers so there was never anyone around to do it for me.

Teachers, bosses, parents above all, please give them credit where credit is due. When I got an A++ my mother would say OK. When I got a 98 on a test the one-sided discussion was about why I didn’t get 100++.

The negativity and unwillingness to trust others in this country is amazing to me, as I come from farm country (never had a farm) and no-one ever locked their doors or cars and people were supposed to be open and honest.

Think of folks who got into the kind of  institutional “credit” people heaped upon homeowners who’ve been dealt their share of pain for dealing with these banks as that’s another story.

No money is needed for my “atta girl.” Just knowing that someone I love or work for believes in me and appreciates my work is plenty.

I went from being the new girl at our annual fest in my husband’s hometown to plate-clearer, dishwasher and maker of at least four dishes in 24 hours after flying in. The other women have worked hours and days before I arrived but no man watching “the Game” ever lifts a finger to help or says thank you to any of us.

Credit. Please tell your kid you’re glad she moved from a C to a B in Math. Or your son that you’re glad he was successful in helping a friend. Thank your parents, simply for being your parents and being there for you, and your friends.

Thank you for giving credit where credit is due. We often assign blame but do not appreciate the good things we have in life. Cheers, Dee

 

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Dad

Posted on May 16, 2014 | Leave a comment

Hopefully fathers don’t come and go, and are there for life. My Dad gave me a great gift, to believe in myself and what I could be and do.

I talked to him today and he’s in the midst of many endeavors. He took up painting at age 80 and I’ve had the pleasure of framing and hanging several works. My greatest work of art was at age five, in crayon, of the characters from The Wizard of Oz. It’s my husband’s favorite so I framed it for his office. I can’t draw or paint but given an expert eye I’m great at framing.

All the kids in the neighborhood would call on him after dinner every summer night and we’d play baseball or touch football in the street. The rules were everyone plays, and no-one gets hurt. I miss that street and all our neighbors.

As a college President, he took me to see colleges. I chose one and paid 1/3 of my tuition, an institution that suited me. I’ve a few dear friends and professors, some who’ve passed.

For a couple of summers I was tasked to write his intros, five a day, introductory speeches for lecturers, artists et al. He’d read them if he had to, but I knew he’d riff off them and that he did to my delight. He even danced with Ginger Rogers as she came on stage. She danced backwards, in high heels, of course.

He built a table, almost Shaker style, of plywood and 4X4’s for our dining room. The buyers, who have lived there over forty years, demanded that the table be in the contract. We had no-where else to put it so that was a go. I’ve yet to go back and visit but we’ve driven by.

Dad built us beds. As we stripped 13 layers of wallpaper off our bedroom wall with a heavy steamer, we were given permission to choose another wallpaper. It was the seventies, everyone had wallpaper. We chose a silver foil with white and yellow geometric shapes. It was a pain to hang. Dad made us bed frames in the yellow from 2X12’s and painted the lamps his father crafted yellow to go with the theme. We added faux fur white bedspreads and he let us do it.

As an adult, he was instrumental in allowing me to meet people and make a career, a life and his lifelong energy and teachings led me to be a volunteer as well. If you want to volunteer, try a feral cat spay/neuter clinic. I did for six years. It’s not for everyone. Guess what, my knowledge of life according to Dad? I went to Trader Joe’s just to tell them we were in the parking lot out back for a few hours and hoped it wasn’t a burden. I bought a bottle of water while chatting and a half hour later they were out there with free water, sodas and muffins. It’s a gift. That’s Dad.

I talked to Dad today. This is not a eulogy in any way. He’s got an exciting and terrific life. How much he means to me and the need for kids to get their butts in gear and respect their parents is what I convey, today. Cheers! Dee

 

 

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Business As Unusual

Posted on May 15, 2014 | 2 comments

We’ve lived here for over two years and pay a good deal of dineros to do so. For the third time living here our dog was attacked. It was in the elevator so she had nowhere to go.

Zoe’s a rescue dog who has been with us since she turned six weeks of age, for over ten years now and while I wish she could hurt a fly (here it’s mosquitoes) she will not do so.

We are now being “investigated” because the foster mom of the two rescues who joined in on the attack by barking like crazy and telling the big dog to go for my hipless wonder-dog said that Zoe barked once. An incident report was filed. The woman said they were fosters and that she would get off the elevator when we entered. I said that’s not good enough ma’am.

I’ve had four animals in my life, all rescues. When I moved here I knew I could not run a foster program given our lease and look forward to retiring to the country so I can help rescued dogs and cats and even designed a mud room/laundry room with four kennels with doors that open in between if there are litter mates. I’d have a list of low-cost vets for spay/neuter as that is a priority of mine, also shots and check-ups.

At least five times a day Zoe and I go through the lobby and she’s offered petting and treats and does tricks for the kiddos. Today, no-one in the lobby will raise their head to greet us or say hello. I’d like to withhold $150 per day rent every day they all do this. Not for me, but because Zoe loves them and thinks that she is in trouble because they won’t look at her or talk to her.

I’ve worked with shelter dogs for over 20 years and owned two for more than that. Nearly every dog can be rehabilitated unless they’ve been bred and trained to fight. They need an owner or foster family to give them a lot of care and training to be able to go to a new home with a (gulp, I hate to say this), forever family. Having two unstable dogs on an elevator is a recipe for disaster.

The rule I learned at GPA (Greyhound Pets of America) is that two dogs is a discussion, three is a fight. I was let into the unneutered male section many times on turnouts but only with the shift supervisor. We watched every movement to prevent a fight before they were well enough, after coming off the track, for surgery. I had to take one out by himself because he was AKC, not a racer, and the racers hated him because he was raised with Dobermans and thought he was one.

That was a good time for me. I suggested we get him subliminal tapes that said “I am a Greyhound” but in the meantime got to take him across the way to a fenced yard and watch him run. What a beautiful sight.

I do not like my old girl being threatened. Today I took her on the elevator and for walks three times so far just so she’s not frightened of attack. While the “investigation” continues I’ll look for a new place to live because if the woman whose dogs attacked mine pays more than we do, she’ll win. That’s the way it is and will always be. Dee

 

 

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Willing and Able

Posted on May 14, 2014 | Leave a comment

Making it a lifelong quest I choose to be able and willing to take care of any situation that comes along.

That was the case for most of my life. Now I take care of a husband and he takes care of me. In a hurricane I pack clothes and dog and he takes care of electronics and drives because he knows I’m freaked out.  We are willing and able to take care of each other.

He and dogma also slept 10 hours during a Cat 5 hurricane and I blogged it by the windows until the power went out, and every place around us was hit but ours. Unable to get food or water for ourselves (we’d stored some water) we gathered what the local shelters were looking for and used precious gas to get there and deliver the items. Blankets, towels, toothpaste, shampoo………

That week we had to use the rest of our gas to get to the airport to spend a week at hospice with my mother. Every time I saw a gas pump I wanted to turn in but we had a full tank in that state and not at home. Do what you can. Be willing and able to make a difference.

As to others, inability is not an issue. Ability and unwillingness to address a situation is intolerable. I’ve been bullied, unfairly judged, sexually harassed and merely tolerated by loved ones.  I forgive them for their errors and hope they forgive me for mine.

Willingness to address whatever situation is important to you is another matter. It usually appears when you have a problem and no-one will help solve it. It takes gumption, chutzpah, and a willingness to get your problem solved despite the ones unwilling to do so.

I didn’t know that years ago. I thought politicians were champions of the people and that lawyers and doctors were knights on white horses. For a while I wanted to go to law school, and chose not to do so. Dad always said I should be a politician but nothing about that or law school appeals to me. The law is another matter that I cherish.

Today I see people who know they have the power to do something but do not do so because of unwillingness to do the right thing or go against the grain. Usually they are concerned that  their power base will be undermined or career derailed.

These people don’t understand that there are folks in the world that only care about justice and fairness in the world. They don’t go to your pricey fundraisers but help neighbors and save the stray cat. They don’t get money from lobbyists and fight to make a fair wage to take care of the family.

I am willing and able to take on a challenge whether it be a lost dog or whatever the community needs from me.

Unwilling is not an option for me and should not be for anyone. Decide if you care for your family, community, life, liberty, freedom and do something positive to correct anything you are able to do. Pick up the phone. Cheers, Dee

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Love

Posted on May 11, 2014 | Leave a comment

Yes it is Mother’s Day. I must give a nod to M and Nanny for making J’s and my life possible. I hope they’ll love their trees and hedges (no Hallmark cards, no 1-800-FLOWERS). We found, I researched and went to the best tree person in their environs and even looked into where to have the best meal in town.

That’s love. People write endless songs and poetry and books about it but I know what it is. Love is the ability and willingness to give, and to be cherished not in return for those gifts but for oneself.

I can’t have kids so we took the dog for a car ride yesterday, which she loves. I’ve a loving husband and family, oh the dog is not a mom, she was spayed two days before we adopted her at six weeks of age and is over ten years old now. We gave her a treat this weekend of a mile-long trip on her orthopedic bed in my car.

Today I’ll make a roasting chicken with stuffing, mashed potatoes with gravy and I’ve fresh corn on the cob I’ll use somehow, raw, cooked, grilled, roasted I don’t know yet. Why? Because I love him.

Yes, I love him enough to make pizza for lunch, homemade with 00 flour dough et al. Now that is love as I’ll have to start the dough around 9 a.m. after I take out and feed the dog, give J cereal with fresh strawberries. Wait, aren’t I supposed to be the mom? I don’t see a note from the dog. I’ve kept promising her someone would invent opposable thumbs for her but it hasn’t happened as yet.

I got my husband an air plant because there’s no maintenance involved except sunlight. I told him why I got it for him and when I asked him again he said “because you love me.” No, I said. You tell the guys at work that it’s the perfect “guy gift.” And yes, I got it because I love him. Happy M’s day. Dee

 

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When at First…

Posted on May 9, 2014 | Leave a comment

you don’t succeed try, try again. I find it amazing that I ever learned how to cook, went to cooking school, have the recipe collection I consult regularly and write a “foodie” blog and contribute to other sites.

Back in the day my parents gave me an EZ-Bake Oven, yes, the one that cooks with a 120 watt light bulb. There were probably three packets included (what a scam) and the first I chose was pretzels. I ended up with dough-encrusted hands and nothing to show for my efforts. Had I known to add more flour because it may have been humid that day or their measurements were off, I would have corrected the situation. But I was probably six years old.

I never made pretzels again, nor do I wish to do so. But I tried again and after two times with the infernal light bulb machine I graduated, well before age ten, to the real oven and stove.

In college my mother got her first Cuisinart and I looked at Jean Anderson’s recipe for pizza dough and have refined it over 30 years in regard to proportions of dry to wet ingredients, amounts of flour, type of flour (now I only use Italian 00) and judge the amount of water by atmosphere and altitude. Three feet above sea level is much different than 6,400 feet and one must roll with the punches.

These days, I would get a stool with rails and bring an interested child up to counter level and let them do what they were able to do. Stir a batter, taste a Bolognese sauce, measure for a roux, butter and flour a pan for his sister’s birthday cake.

A while ago a family came to visit and we had MYOP (make your own pizza) night where every family member got to roll out their own dough and top it with any of about 18 ingredients I’d also prepped beforehand. The older child wanted plain cheese pizza but the three year-old wanted olives, caramelized onions and garlic. And anchovies. There’s the kid who doesn’t need (sorry) the Fischer-Price toy kitchen, but needs to learn from the source or if her school has a program, use it. Her palate is very sophisticated for a now four year-old. Place her in a school garden program and she’ll go places.

Many things happened at age eight as I went to the library every weekend and learned the importance of reading, kept one book longer than I should have, costing $.31 of my $.50 allowance but my parents bought Betty Crocker’s Boys and Girls Cookbook a few weeks later for my 8th birthday.

I learned to leave unnecessary appliances off the counter (like E-Z Bake) and learn the real stuff, how to host parties – my younger brother had theme parties pre-Kindergarten I organized based on royalty (the Castle cake) and Pirates.

No matter how many culinary errors were made I kept at it and even quit the NYC rat race to spend my life savings on cooking school. Now I cook at home and my husband credits me for making him a “food snob.” When I met him he was living in a man cave with only a 72 oz. Dr. Pepper and individually wrapped string cheese in his frig, with cheese wrappers littering the carpet between the frig and his computer. Now he opines about the difference in mature cheddars.

I kept at it and never gave up. I don’t bake as my siblings are great at that. I cook with my heart and soul and make dishes to make people happy and enjoy good company. I made chicken skewers tonight (hubby grilled them) but the marinade is a mystery to me as I just tossed things in. It was really good, chicken with pineapple, tomato (I had a couple on hand), scallions. Indonesian soy sauce, mirin, a few drops of sesame oil, scallion tops, grated garlic and ginger. Served over Israeli couscous. Good stuff. If I try it a couple more times I might send a recipe along. Oh, you can get sweet soy sauce on Amazon. Amazonazingly,Dee

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Silver and Gold

Posted on May 8, 2014 | Leave a comment

You’re thinking of Burl Ives’ silken voice in a holiday story that featured him as a snowman and Rudolph, the one with the red nose, as the star. I loved his talent and voice and saw him in his underwear. I was 19. He was being prepped by his wife and daughter for a performance and commanded me to come in, as I’d arrived to pick him up for said performance. I turned bright red and said no sir, I’ll wait for you out here, and I did.

I was taught to walk with a dictionary on my head, music, dance, even opera in our very small town. I took to prim and proper and well-educated well then when I was in my 30’s just took a small riff on it.

We were taught that no-one wears silver and gold together. I bought matching 18K gold wedding bands. Years ago to help my arthritis my husband bought me a silver and gold “golf bracelet.” We bought 18K gold earrings that I’ve worn for over ten years, day and night and  another golf bracelet for my right wrist for arthritis.

All of my jewelry and heirloom pewter, wood-lined cigarette box given by my great aunt was stolen, along with all her sapphire jewelry.

I don’t wear necklaces any more but have two new additions to my daily regimen. A sterling silver Claddagh ring I’ve always wanted for my birthday (heart turned inward, sorry gents), and a Turkish eye bracelet recently arrived from Islamabad from Dad.

Silver and gold, together. A tiny rebellion when one remembers having to lend a white glove to my sister for Mass to carry so it looked like we both had a pair, or wearing a tissue on our heads when we didn’t have hats.

Of course I took it a few steps further. I went to lunch and to the movies by myself, have had an interesting career, and like to spend my days in a tee, jeans and crocs. No more heels or dresses.

I try to protect our and others’ personal privacy and keep us and our neighbors from harm, and buck authority as needed. After years of being a tongue-tied kid afraid of her own shadow I emerged (a late bloomer) to speak my mind from time to time. My mother wished I hadn’t. Dad said GO!

Certain traits bring people together and often nurturers like me gravitate, luckily, to geniuses like my husband. Over many years we’ve dealt with challenges and find we actually have a few things in common: we believe in whatever issues we believe in; we solve problems; we create constructive change; and we love each other and our families and friends. And readers, of course. Dee

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Care and Protection

Posted on May 8, 2014 | Leave a comment

I knew my husband’s mother and grandmother would be inundated this weekend for mothers’ day so took the opportunity to give them each a gift certificate to a stellar tree nursery nearby. Nanny has already taken a day trip to purchase some hedges for her garden, and M will stop by soon for more trees for the new house.

While I went through five days of interrogation (less than an hour before my f-i-l asked when and that it’s OK with him) with his mother and grandmother many years ago, I left as family and have felt so ever since.

Sometimes when a person treats my husband badly, I’ve things to say. Of course we discuss the issue and he deals with it. Likewise, he protects me, not always giving me advance warning. He seems to think his protection of me is more important than my protection and care of him. I let him think that while incorporating less meat and butter and more veggies in his diet.

I do protect our 35 lb old hip-less wonder dog Zoe, though. This winter she was about to go down hard on the ice as I watched all four legs go out from under her at the same time. I pulled up on the leash and she was OK but I went down like a ton of bricks. A former gymnast and ballet dancer I always knew how to correct and if not, how to fall. No time here. I’ve still vestiges of a huge bruise on my hip.

Zoe is family and maternal instincts kick in. Two years ago a woman asked if her dogs could say hell0. I’d just moved here and said OK. One went on the attack and had Zoe’s jugular in its teeth and I went against The Dog Whisperer and everyone else and dropped Zoe’s leash and grabbed the dog’s collar and lifted him off her. The dog’s owner said something like, oh, well, he’s not good on a leash. No apology, no offer to pay vet fees.

My husband and I went through her fur and couldn’t see blood but I took her to the vet anyway. The woman and her nasty dog moved away because there was more than one complaint of unprovoked attacks.

Years ago someone let their dog run amok with no collar or tags in our park and my dog was sitting, on leash, at my side. The dog came around quietly and attacked her from behind. I dropped my old dog’s leash and grabbed the pit bull by the back of the neck (no collar). He let her go. I was instructed never to do that again by dog experts. As you can see from above, I did it again. What did the owner say? “Oh, we’re dropping him off in Mexico later today so wanted him to go for a run. He won’t be back.” No sorry, no vet bill. And I’ve no animosity towards Bull Terriers unless they are bred and trained to fight. They can make really sweet pets.

And please, if you’re a responsible dog owner, find a legal space in town to supervise your dog off the leash. Check it out online or try to form your own with city or county assistance. No, they won’t assist you. You have to go to your elected officials and meet with staff and then after 18 meetings you may have the go-ahead to make parks staff work with you. Take advantage of the leash-free parks that exist now and know that these folks have run the gauntlet so make sure you’ve a collar, leash, current tags and vaccinations, a permit, poop bags, “petiquette” and a thank-you for all who’ve done this work on your and your dog’s behalf.

I spent six years volunteering to gain legal leash-free areas in California and we made a few baby steps but my dog died. She never got her park but all our neighbors and friends donated a tree to our park in her memory. I don’t have kids so have had two dogs and two cats and they’ve kept me company. No, they never got me a mothers’ day card or a can of Fancy Feast. I can’t have cats anymore because my husband is allergic to them, but we’ve a herding dog for the past ten years who is at my feet now and keeps me in her sight day and night. That’s enough of a gift for me.

In a nutshell, I protect my husband without his knowledge, he protects me more with some knowledge, and no dog will challenge Zoe with my husband around but I will protect her, whatever she needs, as I take her out the most. Take care and protect your loved ones, even husbands who don’t want it! Dee

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