In Kentucky, a stray dog was picked up by a police officer and taken to the humane society. The shelter told the police that it was a coyote and they couldn’t take it in. Despite some hesitations about their verdict, the police officers weren’t the animal pros here, so they called a wildlife expert for advice, who told them coyotes needed to be either put back in the wild or killed. So, they took the canine behind a home improvement store and let her go.
Problem is, this wasn’t a coyote. The dog they released was an 11-year-old, AKC- registered Shiba Inu, who is now out in the wild (presumably in an area that has real coyotes), fending for herself.
Maybe I could see someone thinking a Shiba Inu is a fox, especially if they don’t see very many dogs. Or thinking a husky or malamute is a wolf. But a shelter worker thinking this dog is a coyote gives me just one more reason never to let Juno out of my sight. I guess the only good thing is that they didn’t opt for putting down the “coyote,” so maybe she’ll still make it home safely.
Clearly, I’ve been remiss in my CSA blogging. And, after learning that some people are using salad spinners to save lives, my weekly lettuce adventures kind of, well, wilted in comparison.
But for those of you who aren’t looking to create centrifuges out of kitchen gadgets and just want to know how a person wrangles a weekly farm share when her cooking prowess really needs no more than an easy-bake oven, or for my friends who wonder how I manage to survive without the pizza delivery guy on speed dial (he’s not … I swear!), here’s an update from weeks four and five.
So, the problem with having limited abilities in the kitchen is that you’re, well, limited. I had a lot of the same this week – more concoctions involving kale, scallions, olive oil and rice. It’s good, it’s easy, but it’s not the most exciting dish by the eighth time in four weeks. However, this week did mark the introduction of my farm share to my George Foreman grill. I made sandwiches of grilled zucchini with a little parmesan that were excellent. I’m a big fan of grilled zucchini … fingers crossed that there’s more to come.
Interesting newsletter tidbit of the week: “Last week, we sent 80 beautiful leaves of Rainbow Chard to a former CSA member’s wedding … to be used in the table bouquets! There was a chard theme throughout the wedding, even with small drawings of chard leaves gracing the invitations.” That’s some serious chard love. (I was hoping for a chard bouquet photo for this post, but when you put “chard bouquet” into the creative commons search, it basically tells you that combining those words is crazy talk.)
Ever since witnessing my first hoarding cases while working at the local humane society, I’ve tried to understand how something like this happens: What makes someone fly past the tipping point of having multiple animals to having an unlivable situation? It’s one thing not to notice the dustbunny in the corner or the recycling that’s a few days past needing to go outside, but piles of feces and dead animals laying around the house? I remember one case in particular where there were so many dirty dishes in the sink and so much garbage piled around the kitchen that the homeowners had rigged up a hose from the sink, run it through the house and tied it off in various spots where they’d want access to water. At what point did that contraption make more sense than doing the dishes, or even just throwing the dishes out?
That desire to fathom the unfathomable is what had me looking forward to the new Animal Planet Confessions series that premiered on Wednesday.
Did the show meet my expectations? For the most part, yes.
You may be thinking (or hoping) that this is a random “What If…” kind of post. But no. Sergei Gorbunov of Russia loves scuba diving and he loves his dog. So, he figures, why not bring his two passions together?
Well, I can think of several reasons why not:
1) You don’t have to do everything together. A little separation is a good thing. Not every human activity is compatible for canines, and vice versa. Do you roll in dead things just because your dog does? (If you answered “yes,” I’m not sure you should read further. We may not have much to talk about.)
2) Looking the part isn’t enough. That’s great that the dog has all the gear — his little suit and helmet that he looks perfectly miserable in — but that doesn’t mean he’s ready to be a diver. Hint: When there’s an activity where you have to bring along your own oxygen supply, it’s not a natural behavior. That fine if you want to make the choice to B.Y.O.O. (bring your own oxygen), but don’t force your dog to do it, too.
3) This isn’t The Little Mermaid. Your dog isn’t singing along with flounders and crabs under the sea. He has no idea what’s going on in that world. He doesn’t understand why he “feels a little discomfort from the pressure.” He can’t even use any of his normal senses to assess what he’s encountering in this strange new environment. Vision has nothing on a dog’s sense of hearing and smell, but with his head is trapped in a bubble, he can’t use any of those senses; he has no idea what’s going around him, what’s safe and what’s not.
4) This really isn’t The Little Mermaid. Remember how to Ariel and her sea creature pals weren’t really very afraid of the prince’s dog in the Disney movie? That’s not real life. (Yeah, I’m the type to break the bad news that life isn’t a Disney movie. Also, there’s no Santa). Any other creatures you encounter on your human-canine scuba excursions will be freaked out. They’re not fooled into thinking that’s a dogfish. How many species need to partake in the panic of your hobby? And, depending on where you take your pup, his flailing dog paddle could even injure animals or their habitats.
5) A dog wetsuit. Really? How miserable does that dog look? Most dogs are humiliated enough in light sweaters and jackets; no dog wants to don a suit that requires a technique somewhere between shaking a pillow into a pillow case and shimmying into leather pants. And all that rolling on the ground at the end of the video clip? That’s the sign of a dog trying to shake it off.
The dog is not “comfortable” just because his suit keeps him dry and he’s not “calm” because his helmet is see-through. He’d be a lot more comfy and calm at home on the couch, just call him when it’s lunchtime.
When a 75-year-old Dutch woman was pulled over for not wearing her seat belt, she tossed something out the window. The evidence she unsuccessfully tried to ditch was a package of cocaine. She admitted she had marijuana on her, too. Drug dealing isn’t your usual retirement plan, but this woman said she needed the cash to feed her cats.
According to Radio Netherlands Worldwide, the cops let her off with a warning when she promised to find a more legal means of meeting her pet food tab. This story raises a lot of questions – How many cats did she have? Did anyone check on her to see if there was a hoarding problem? Anyone call social services? Anyone try to find out who her supplier was? Or were they all too busy being flabbergasted by the drug dealing crazy cat lady to get to the bottom of the situation?
For the record: I’m not calling her a crazy cat lady because she needed a cocaine-sized salary to feed the number of cats she had. I tend to see that a slur against people who have legit – albeit devastating - psychological issues and brushing them off as “crazy” doesn’t get us any closer to resolving the issues and saving animals. And we don’t even know how many cats this woman had – maybe it was just one or two who subsisted on imported sushi-grade fish. No, I’m calling her a crazy cat lady because Grandma dealt drugs to buy cat food.
That’s dedication, but there have got to be better ways. I mean, I’ll go pretty far for my animals, but I keep it legal. My cats and dogs wouldn’t do well if I was locked away in prison.
I have nothing against kale; it’s just not the first thing I grab in the fridge. The CSA newsletter this week was pretty kale-focused, admitting that “there is a slightly unusual presentation of kale in the box” (I assume they’re referring to the big chunk of kale on the stem instead of just getting the leaves) and offering up a blog called 365 Days of Kale. I guess that answers how much kale one person can eat. More power to the blogger, but that’s probably about 300 days of kale more than I can handle.
I had a backlog of last week’s curly kale in the fridge and there was more regular kale this week. With Russian kale on the list for tomorrow’s box o’ veggies, you can probably guess what dinner was tonight. Kale. Okay, not just kale, I threw in the beet greens, garlic scapes, olive oil and pasta. (Ingredient Count: 5)
This week’s share, in addition to kale: cabbage, rainbow chard, scallions, lettuce, romaine, beets, garlic scapes, arugula, radishes.
Find of the Week: Whole Foods has these awesome salad shakers. I don’t know about you, but I love salad with a lot of stuff on it – different veggies, grains, nuts, olives, whatever. I’m into everything-but-the-kitchen-sink-or-meat salads, but obviously, unless I hit up a salad bar, creating one of those concoctions exceeds my internal ingredient limit. That’s why Whole Foods salad shakers rock my world – one cup with half a dozen pre-chopped ingredients, plus dressing. They’re pretty good on their own, and they add a whole new level of excitement to CSA greens and cabbage.
The last two big accomplishments of Week #3:
1) Thanks to a Mom-internet tag-team, I successfully roasted raw beets. But the real accomplishment? I did so without tie-dyeing my clothing or making my kitchen look like a crime scene.
2) There was more bartering of HBO for cooked veggies. What can I say? I put the “share” in CSA-sharing. And there’s a good chance this will be an ongoing deal. Makes this whole CSA thing a lot more palatable (literally and figuratively).
If you love books and you love vampires, and you find that a British accent never hurts, then you’re probably with me in loving Giles, the vampire-fighting librarian on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, played by Anthony Stewart Head. I loved Giles since Day One, but once he started singing in Season 4, it was all over.
After the snippet where he sang The Who’s Behind Blue Eyes, a little quest to find the full song (it doesn’t exist) led to a little cyberstalking of Anthony Head. Never found the song, but I did find a section on his official website labeled “Foster Animals,” with some ridiculously cute pit bull puppy pictures. With his wife, Sarah Fisher (who runs Tilley Farm, a TTouch center) he rescues horses, dogs and other assorted animals.
As if that wasn’t enough to make him my favorite person, Tony (because now we’re on a first name basis, of course) has a whole list of animal welfare charity work that he’s done. The latest addition to his list of good animal deeds is his adoption of a chimpanzee named Naika. Through Care for the Wild International, he sponsored a chimp who was rescued from a circus and now gets to live out her life in Sweetwaters Chimpanzee Sanctuary in Kenya. Tony just keeps getting better.
And now I find out he’s vegetarian, too … Why are all the good soulmates already taken?
p.s. My initial cyberstalking is also what brought me to the joys of Repo! The Genetic Opera, a wonderfully twisted rock opera meets horror meets graphic novel. The unlikely cast not only stars Tony and his amazing voice, but also Sarah Brightman of Phantom of the Opera fame and Ogre from the band Skinny Puppy. I’ve included the trailer for your viewing pleasure:
Before delving into week two, let’s talk about my coups that rounded out week one. First, the rhubarb. Just like Lauren-the-Farmer’s-Market-Maven told me, I cooked it with some honey (I don’t keep sugar in the house because that would mean I was trying to bake something) and threw in the last of the strawberries. (Ingredient Count: 3) Okay, to the credit of the rest of the world, it wasn’t just Lauren – I seem to be the only person in the world who felt scared and alone when facing the rhubarb. I threw the “compote,” which is what I’m told this concoction is called, on top of some awesome almond poppyseed muffins from this little bakery in Ypsi, and the awesomeness was amplified. And I got over my fear of rhubarb. Mostly.
The second eleventh hour (for the vegetables, not for me) achievement was my quick fried rice. A little olive oil, chopped up garlic scapes and the rest of the scallions. Add brown rice (the three-minute microwave kind from Trader Joe’s – I’m not waiting all day for rice to cook!), toss in some soy sauce, and voila! Yeah, I came up with this one all by myself. So big! And it was tasty, too. (Ingredient Count: the Big Five)
I started off Week 2 with a little cheating … I mean, bartering. Bartering is all in the CSA spirit, right? Right? My co-sharers were both out of town this past weekend, so I traded my HBO and some veggies for someone else to pick up my share from the farmers market. I also conned her into a little cooking and got an awesome rice and kale and random other stuff dish (but I’m pretty sure it stayed close to my five ingredient limit). Read the rest of this entry »
It’s been awhile since I’ve had a foster kitten, mostly because of a couple of rules I have to keep the relative sanity around here. Rule #1 is that my animals, the ones I’ve made a lifetime commitment to, always come first. We’ve had a rough couple of years with one animal after another battling cancer. So, no fosters when one of The Pack needs my attention.
I usually don’t have more than one foster at a time, and Wilbur is still here, but after almost ten months, he’s settled in enough for our routine to handle a little disruption.
That disruption’s name is Raymond. He was the perfect foster opportunity for me right now: a single kitten with your basic upper respiratory infection who needed to get out of the shelter for 3-4 weeks. And Raymond has reminded me how fun it is to foster kittens. So, if you’ve never had the pleasure, here’s what you’re missing:
1. It’s Like Being Grandma. It’s not that being around these tiny critters who have only been in the world for a few weeks makes you feel old and worn out. A foster home is like going to grandma’s house — all the fun, none of the responsiblity. Okay, you have a little responsibility as a foster parent, but since your job is mostly to spoil them if they’re sick, fatten them up if they’re too young, and/or play with them if they’re undersocialized, it’s a pretty good deal. Read the rest of this entry »
For the first time, I’m splitting a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) share with some friends. It’s a pretty monumental deal for me. It’s not that I don’t support local farmers, or that I have something against sharing, or even that I don’t love veggies (I could live off broccoli!) it’s just that mounds of fresh vegetables in the house require preparation. And I don’t cook.
So, the goal with my share of the CSA share is to put good veggies to good use with as little effort as possible. I’ll even include the ingredient count for everything I try to see how many times I get beyond five ingredients. Believe me, this is no Julie & Julia knock-off. This isn’t going to be a daily blog topic and, besides, we’re talking a kitchen acumen somewhere between the Swedish Chef and Moby, my big-pawed, year-old pit bull who likes to try and help with the dishes. It’s not my mom’s fault.
I know, this is more vegetable rescue than animal rescue, so it’s a little out of the norm for what you see on this blog. But it’s not totally irrelevant. For one thing, these veggies will stay vegetarian. As my friend Lauren (farmer’s market maven who I will no doubt rely on for quick prep tips) would say, nothing with a face will be on this menu. What’s even more interesting is that my friends and I chose Frog Holler, a local farm that’s not only organic, but has a big-time animal welfare tie-in. Read the rest of this entry »
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Before delving into week two, let’s talk about my coups that rounded out 
