Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Hot Apple Cider

Whew, it was cold out there on my walk home! On days like today back when I lived in the little house on Polo Road with Miss J., she would get out a big pot and line the bottom of it with Red Hots and fill it up with apple cider and put it on the stove to simmer and melt the Red Hots. I'd be in my room writing and she'd be in her room writing and we'd tell ourselves that we'd work for an hour, have some cider, and then go back to work. Usually, we'd actually do that. But sometimes, we'd sit around holding the warm cups in our hands, talking about literary theory or boys or the crazy antics of our friends. I used to walk to the little house on Polo Road, too, with about as much enthusiasm as I do to this place, which is to say, not much. But I'd come up the back yard and see the warm glow of the light in the kitchen and Miss J. at the sink or the stove, and it would make me glad to be home. Here, when I get home, the house is dark and I unlock the door to the smell of an unclean litter box. But as I stumble in and search for the light, I hear the dull, quick thuds of a tail smacking against some piece of furniture someplace in the darkness, and then, there, in the middle of the room, blocking my path, is a girl happy to see me. She doesn't make me warm cider, because she lacks opposable thumbs, but she makes me glad to be home, just the same.

8 Comments:

Blogger the Professor said...

Yum. We could make some after a walk this weekend. I'll even try to write some before then.

11/29/2005 06:39:00 PM  
Blogger Exador said...

That's so freaky. I just sat down with my cup of hot apple cider, after just getting back from the park with Zachary. I wouldn't take him more than about a 1/4 mile round trip. I'm a smothering father. I followed behind him with a flashlight, trying to see if he was showing any signs of a limp. I swear he started to shift his weight ever so slightly by the end of it, but only when he was trotting. If he walked, he was ok. He tried to run a couple times but I yelled for him to slow down. No leash again. There are never people at the park after dark.

11/29/2005 07:30:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

You know, these tender little tales you tell about your dog are going to ruin your reputation as a heartless throwback to the dark ages.

11/29/2005 09:35:00 PM  
Blogger Exador said...

Unfortunately, after he laid on the floor for an hour or so, he got up with a pretty bad limp. I ran out of his meds on Friday and I wanted to see how he'd do without them. He was fine up until then.
I gave him one of mine, hidden in a piece of bread. He inhaled the piece of bread, then a moment later: Patooy!; he spit out the pill. Bastard. I had to fall back to an old standby, since now he's on his guard for the pill. I melted the pill into the center of a piece of cheese. Works every time.

11/30/2005 01:08:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Oh, that poor boy! When Mrs. Wigglebottom hurt herself in a tragic cat-chasing incident, I sat on the couch with her and kept the paw on ice. I don't think she liked the ice, but she loved being doted on.

Luckily, she's never needed any kind of medication. So, I don't know how she'd be.

But you are a dog genius. Any advice for how to trim a pitbull's nails? She needs it and I hate it. I'm wondering if I can't just file them.

11/30/2005 01:13:00 PM  
Blogger Exador said...

If you walk your dog regularly on pavement, the pavement will files them down.

11/30/2005 01:34:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

One would think.

That seems to work on the back feet just fine. But her front nails are ungodly. And we walk on pavement pretty exclusively.

And, she likes to pet me.

Believe me, there's little more disconcerting than waking up to a dog scraping her dry pads and long nails across your face. (Ha, my dog is such a freak!)

Which brings me to another question. Can you lotion dogs' feet or no?

And is there any way to keep her from jumping on new people?

And the farts... my god, the farts...

Okay, I'm going to pull it together here. I just sometimes feel like such a bad dog owner. There should be a clear hierarchy between person and pet, but we don't really have one.

I mean, your dog comes when you call him. How jealous am I? My dog comes when she thinks you have food or might take her for a car ride. Otherwise, she's got her own shit going on and can't be bothered.

11/30/2005 01:45:00 PM  
Blogger Exador said...

Yes, you can put lotion on a dog's feet, but remember that she needs to walk ono them on pavement, so you don't want them too delicate.

Keeping her from jumping requires training, so count that out.

Buttermilk cures gas, and the dogs love it. In the milk section of your grocery.

11/30/2005 02:37:00 PM  

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