Cooking with Dee

Our dog Zoe is over 90 in “people years” but she keeps on going. She spent some time at a retail business last week and will again do so this Thanksgiving week.

I’m told she’s a hit. I just need to comb out the undercoat she is shedding so she looks presentable. She is so kind with people of all ages and all dogs (except the one that wants to eat her) and even cats. Squirrels and mice should watch out but she’ll never catch them, especially on my 6′ leather leash with Martingale collar.

When I move from room to room in the middle of the night, she follows me within three minutes. Now it’s an hour before she knows I am gone and displays her herding skills, not letting me go anywhere without her say-so.

As the sun begins to come up, I do receive regular emails from Stirling Castle in Scotland. It was home to several monarchs from Scotland and even James II who ruled both Scotland and England after Queen Elizabeth I.

The new parliament and nation that is Scotland is an inspiration to me and has been since our long-term visit a few years ago. While there I called my uncle/godfather and asked if he wished for me to contact any of his relatives while there. He said no, that his family had left in the 1700’s to kick the French out of Canada. Well, that didn’t work. Montreal is now French, centuries later.

He did say that if I was in a Scottish pub, any pub, and used his name someone would stand me a pint. I never tried it.

Just as Zoe is getting older and more frail, so am I. So are our families. That’s the way it goes when one attains a certain age. I think we have to embrace life, collect mental memories, and rage, rage against the dying of the light. I never understood Dylan Thomas as a kid, but by age eight, I understood both Anne Frank and Death Be Not Proud about the son of John J. Gunther.

This time of year I usually cook a lot and drive my dog halfway across the country to see my husband and his family. This year, she’ll be taken care of and I’ll fly in with minimal cooking. So, gals, does this mean I need to do dishes??? Happy Thanksgiving, Dee

No-one ever had to tell me about it, it was instilled, perhaps it was in the water. Parents tried to change my direction many times but there was a sense of purpose.

Today my husband is at work elsewhere and our dog is staying with a local family. I’m on my own and have my packing list but need to pack. I’ve a 5:30 alarm.

For years I was used to being alone (with two cats and a dog) but now, I am not used to it anymore. 5:30 in the morning will come soon enough to pack and get on the road to see family, and my husband will be there in the evening, for the weekend.

Sadly he left very early on the 7th of November and will not return until December. I’ll get to see him twice in other locations but Zoe will not. Yes, she will over Thanksgiving but that’s another story and location.

I am retired from a profession I could do, but not with changing locations. The life we live gives us two days a week together, that gives our small family (us and Zoe) time to catch up.

There are three pages of Zoe instructions for our trip and her adventure. No questions or phone calls as yet. I know she’s OK. I didn’t cry when I dropped her off and that’s a good sign. She just said “hey Mom, gotta go, things to do, people and dogs to meet.” Bye, my little one. Be good.

My purpose can include volunteerism, not for lack of trying. The major society governing therapy dogs will not allow Zoe into a hospital because she eats frozen raw food. She’s almost 13 years old and I will not change her diet for a hospice therapy dog program when it is the only food she would eat after trying everything when she was a pup who needed her hips removed and had to grow her own from cartilage.

Now this is my life, keeping it for the benefit of my husband and our dog and, of course, our families. Thanks to my Dad for telling me I could be anything I wanted to be. I’m now an old, retired wife and dog-mom. Dee

Not in a bad way. I delivered her bed, food and things to the kind lady who is taking care of Zoe this weekend. Her new bud PeJo met her at the door.

After we loaded Zoe’s bag and bed into her car I walked her 10′ from the front door and wanted to say goodbye. I fluffed her fur and gave her a kiss on her forehead and she was like a little kid going to school, albeit an elderly one.

“Mom, bye, see ya in a few days. I’ve got to go, dogs to meet, people to see. I’m a busy gal!” That’s my girl. No wonder they call her a mascot around the neighborhood. Everyone knows her name.

Guess what? I didn’t cry, I would have after I turned around leaving her at a kennel. I know she is in good hands this long weekend where adventures abound. Now I just have to make my list and pack, just as I did for Zoe. She was so excited that I was placing her food and treats and bags in a bag, as she hates to see us pack and always thinks we’re moving.

Oh, I hope my alarm goes off at 5:30 in the morning. It would be good if I actually made my flight. Cheers! No computer this weekend. Family time. Dee

ps When I arrive to pick up Zoe, if she’s happy to see me/us, it’s great. If she is desperate and whining to see us (kennel) I feel horrible.