Follow up

The corned beef was great. I bought two, while Kroger had them on sale, and I baked the smaller (2 lbs pre-cooked) one for St. Paddy's Day. It was delicious, fall-apart tender, with intense, rich corned beef flavor. The mashed potatoes were these, from Cook's Illustrated Best Recipes and, really, there's no way they're not going to be good. I cooked the cabbage using the basic, pretty much foolproof technique from my big dependable vegetable cookbook. Dessert was…no, no dessert. (Are you kidding? We were stuffed.) Delicious, all of it, if I do say so myself.

As for the dog, JR, I took him this morning to the vet that the Shih Tzu rescue group uses. Okay, I'm a little embarrassed to admit it, but I'm not positive which rescue group it is. I'm fairly sure it's DFW Tzus & More. I talked, emailed and texted the woman in charge, and—way more important—got a sterling recommendation of her from Lisa Collins, the women who fostered one of our dogs, who has a ton of experience, and who knows everyone in the rescue community. Lisa assured me that Cheryl (my Shih Tzu contact) is great, and that the group is very particular about placing dogs. Anyway, I took JR to the vet this morning. They'll check him out, neuter him, and give him the green light to go to one of the rescue group's fosters.

I felt more than a few pangs, just because he was so upset at my leaving. Poor thing! He was finally starting to relax and act like a regular dog, and this is going to be quite a setback. But in the end, or at least a week or ten days from now, he'll be much happier. Happier than he would have here, I think, since he'll have other little dogs to play with. I had no doubts about it being the best thing for him, but…well, that's the trouble with loving animals and being empathetic towards them. [sniff]

But still, I'm going to count that as two happy outcomes! And the Stars won last night!

Corned beef & dog

Soooo…what's been going on with you?

Here? Oh, not much. I rescued a dog. A nasty dirty, horribly matted Shih Tzu*, who was moseying down Johnson Road (my street) in Southlake. I was driving home Tuesday afternoon when he wandered into my lane and started walking towards me as I approached. My choices were to either stop or run over him, so I stopped, thinking I would look at his tag and take him home. It turned out that the thing under his chin wasn't a tag. It was gum. He was horribly neglected, covered with giant mats. He looked like this:

So much for just taking him home.

And, BTW, he smelled exactly as good as he looked.

Anyway, after offering him some food & water, I took him to the closest vet to see if he had a microchip. (Well, he could have been someone's pet who'd gotten lost a few months earlier.) The closest vet is right next door to Southlake Crossing Pet Spa, the place J & Andy go to a few times a year so that Andy can get a hair cut (J just get luxurious baths). When I drove up, Courtney, the owner, happened to be outside. She greeted me as I walked up carrying this nasty dog, then walked us over to the vet's office to check for a microchip. When there wasn't one, I asked, gulping, how much they would charge to groom him (really, I couldn't stand to be around him the way he was). She said they'd do it for free, since I was being nice enough to rescue him. Free. That mess in the picture up there. These women are saints. No kidding, they're so nice, and so sweet to the animals. I can't say enough good things about them!**

The groomers were gone for the day, and Courtney was there by herself, but she did what she could on him. He had to go back the next morning for the full treatment and, in the meantime, I had called every veterinarian on the first three pages of Google maps, the local animal control officer, both Shih Tzu rescue groups in the Metroplex and…nothing. Or almost nothing. The Humane Society in Keller gave me the name of a vet in Keller who does low-cost vaccinations. Since it was clear this little guy was going to spend the night in our house, with our dogs around, he needed to be vaccinated.

Cut to the next day. He's vaccinated, groomed, and now looking & smelling much better:

His ears are almost always like this,
one up & one down. Adorable!

I commented on Facebook that the groomers at Southlake Crossing Pet Spa had gone way above and beyond. That doesn't really state it clearly enough, so let me illustrate: his poor little face and eyes were so horribly matted and painful that he didn't want anyone near them at all, much less with clippers. To get him cleaned up, one of the groomers held him up to her shoulder like a baby and loved on him, while the other stood behind her, carefully clipping away the mats on his face. That's the kind of care they take, and how kind they are to the animals they groom. Way above and beyond.

The Shih Tzu rescue groups started returning my calls, and after some texts & emails back and forth, one of them has agreed to take him! They asked, though, if we could keep him here until Tuesday (dadblame Spring Break!). Right now the little dog is living in a well-used wire kennel in our living room, and it was no big deal the first few days. He was so stressed (and had just been vaccinated, adding physical stress to the mix) that staying in his own little den was the best thing for him. But now he's feeling better, feeling more confident, feeling like he wants out, damnit, and who do we think we are, keeping him in this cage?!? Him being out and about, free to roam about the house, wouldn't be a problem if it weren't for those giants (i.e., the other dogs, Andy and J, who are about 25 lbs as opposed to JR's 11 lbs.). He's still afraid of them.

His name is JR (short for Johnson Road, after the street I found him on). (FYI, when you have an animal vaccinated for rabies, they need a name to go on the certificate.) JR loves Rich, will sit quietly in his lap, snuggle up beside him and snooze, but every time he sees me—literally, sees me—he turns into a vortex of activity, a virtual doggy tornado. And if I don't take him out for a walk or give him treats or let him wiggle in my lap (he doesn't sit still) while I try to pet him, he barks the shrill, piercing bark of the tiny dog. If I try to just give up and put him back in his kennel and he can still see me, he screams. (Seriously, you would think we were cutting this dog's head off the way he carries on.)

The only saving grace is that he's kind of a ho for people food. And he loooooves his Charlee Bear treats (liver flavor). Those go a long way to making life easier. Dropping a handful of Charlee Bears in his food dish would be a terrible habit to get into (and we wouldn't be doing it if he were staying here), but it does give me ten minutes of peace.

So that's the dog part. The corned beef part is that we're having baked corned beef, cabbage & mashed potatoes for dinner, for St. Patrick's Day. If you've only tasted boiled corned beef, you don't know what you're missing. The flavor in a baked corned beef is so much more intense, and can stand up to cabbage so much better. (The cabbage and the mashed potatoes are separate so we can mix our own colcannon on our plates if we want.)

Happy St. Paddy's Day, everyone! Wish me luck with my corned beef. And dog!

*Turns out the people who are involved with this breed prefer that you pronounce it "Shih Zoo," not "Shit Zoo." Huh, right?

**Really, right now, schedule an appointment for your pets. Even if they don't actually need it. This kind of kindness and goodness should be supported!***

***And pay for it. They have to make a living!

Horsey kind of morning

This is what I posted on Facebook:

We were out late last night at a Official Dallas Stars game (which went to a shootout), and even later after being stuck in the astonishing traffic on 114 WB (one HOUR to go from the 121 merge to William D. Tate). So I was still asleep at six this morning, when our dogs started just going nuts barking. After trying to shush them repeatedly, I threw open the front door, saying, "Look, there's NOTHING out there. Now shut UP!" And there were two horses standing in the front yard.

Nope, not something that happens every day. Yes, we found the owners, who came and got them. Best part: our neighbor across the driveway, who got a picture of them drinking out of his birdbath, said he noticed they were there when one of them came up onto his front porch.

Not sure what I can add to that. One of my friends commented that she wished she could have seen my face. Me, too!

I'll see if I can get the drinking-from-the-birdbath photos from Jay to share.

Wow!

Encyclopædia Britannica sends out an "On This Day" email every day (go here to sign up —it's usually pretty interesting). The edition for today, 2/1/13, highlights an amazing fact:

You wouldn't think their influence would have been felt that far, would you? Even more amazing is the fact that the distance they mention, 32.7 million km, appears a second time in the same email:

This kind of thing makes me feel so much better about any mistakes I make. Thanks, EB!)

Does anyone know…

…what I did with the paper window shades when I took them down last Fall? I came across another one I need to store with them. Anyone? No? Yeah, me neither.

That's what my memory is like these days.

Oh! And the mystery dinner. Not great that night, cooked in the slow cooker. But the next day, simmered for a few hours on the cooktop, fantastic! Tender and flavorful, all the pieces. When they said stew is better the next day, I always thought it was an optional thing.

Mystery dinner

So you take a grass-fed, antibiotic-free cow and butcher it. Cut it into more or less standard cuts, then take everything that's left over and cut that into small pieces. Slap all those together, label it, "Stew meat," and let some hapless home cook try to make something from it.

I don't doubt the quality at all, but I'll be surprised if the texture and flavor isn't all over the place. I'll let you know after dinner tonight.

No more, 'kay? Oh yeah! And happy holidays.

Sometimes these days the phrase, "Enough is enough," stays in the forefront of my mind.

I stopped watching media coverage of the horror in Newtown within about twelve hours. We were never fortunate enough to have children, though I very badly wanted to, so I don't have a parent's perspective on the worst loss anyone could ever suffer. But because we were never fortunate enough to have children, I have an acute awareness of just how precious they are. I realize just what it is those families have lost.

And while it's trivial in the larger scheme of things (just making sure you know I haven't lost perspective), I'm also a hockey fan. Love my Dallas Stars. Love going to all the games. And the NHL is about to implode. They've lost half a season and both sides are taking irreversible action against the other. That particular fun, that particular "passion" is about to be gone, with ever-diminishing hope of reviving it.

The thing is, I can only think about the bad things that are happening for so long. The sadness and grief about the tragedy in Connecticut become overwhelming. The frustration and resentment about the NHL lockout grates, and doesn't do anything good for my blood pressure.

Plus I feel like I have an obligation to move along with this pretty great life I have. It is pretty great, and pretty cushy, despite some tough situations that are coming up: We have some family members who are a challenge to be around. Some old people whose health is declining. (I'm back to being afraid every time the phone rings. Sooner or later it will be that phone call.) Rich and I both have gone a very long time without work, and our financial situation is pretty grim at the moment. We have to come up with gifts, we have to pay taxes. And we're about to—again, as always, world without end amen—travel for the holidays.*

So I look at Twitter to get the latest updates. I watch the local news, and change the channel when they start repeating the same old information. I'm not going to get into (at least not right now) the debate about gun control, or reporters interviewing children, nor who's more at fault about the lockout or how they should #fireBettman. Maybe some other time.

For the moment, I'm focusing on the fact that things are good right now. Ten seconds from now it could be different, but right now everything's fine. And that'll have to do.

Happy holidays, everyone.





*We don't have to worry about the house being empty because we have a fantastic petsitter who very graciously moves in, with her significant other, while we're away.** But I can't help but worry about things here while we're far away. And it's just hard to be someone's houseguest for so long.

**No, you can't have her.