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Stuffed Cabbage, Stuffed Toys and Stuffed Hearts

October 20, 2010

The bread was a success! It was dense and a bit heavy, but delicious and very hearty. The soup was a bit bland, but okay. I used my new Ninja blender/food processor to chop the onion and blend the soup to make it creamy. I saved all that was left (a good bit) and it’ll make a great base for other things.

The meal was overall quite labor intensive. Peeling a butternut squash is no small feat and kneading bread is a workout. There was something very righteous about doing all that. Must be those centuries of genetic belief in the virtues of sacrifice; something deep inside our strands of DNA that gives me such a feeling of, “It hurt thereby it must be good!” I want still to make that argh, argh noise “Tim the Tool-Man Taylor” made on TV.

I’m thinking some sort of stuffed cabbage tonight. I might even use the leftover soup instead of a tomato based  sauce. That’s sounding pretty funky, but still might be good. I could stuff the cabbage with onion, carrot, zucchini, rice and poblano pepper.

We ate another caramel apple last night. I suppose as sweets go, they aren’t near as bad as some. Not counting the apple of course, they have 4gm of fat. We did only eat one each.

By the way, I was very swollen last night. I was even wheezing when I laughed all day yesterday. No  bone in my lower legs or feet was discernible. We haven’t eaten a lot of salt so I can only assume it’s from the large amount of walking I did the day before. First shopping for a couple of hours and I insisted on not using the wheelchair  (argh, argh again) and then at that festival, I walked for at least four hours total. All the walking was done very slowly, but I was up, vertical and weight-bearing the entire time.

Today is a special day. Here is why:

Little Rudi

Today is Rudi’s birthday.

He is one year old.

We passed him and his litter mates in a grocery store parking lot last December. His owner was trying to sell them all a few weeks before Christmas.

We drove past, knowing we absolutely should not get another dog.

My wheelchair was in the trunk. Handicap tag on the car. Goodness knows I was enough for anyone to take care of!

After about twenty minutes I suggested we just go back and play with them. Not buy one, just hold one or two.

We turned around.


Baby Rudi and Cousin Gandhi

On the drive back, we decided that we would only buy a girl.

Then, only is they were really, really cheap.

Only if the same girl appealed to both of us.

We got out of the car just as it began to drizzle a cold December Georgia rain.

“Do you have any girls?”

“All the girls are gone.”

“How much are they?”

Much more than we wanted to pay, he said.

We sat on the curb and the puppies scampered around us.


stairs at old house

All the little Basset Hound puppies were red except one with the classic black, white and

brown combination.

It was this one that climbed across my lap and laid his head on Lee’s leg. We took him home.

We had stairs going into the house I could barely climb.

Rudi was afraid of the stairs and had to be carried up and down, every time.

Within days it seemed he had doubled in size.

His teeth multiplied and wanted to chew constantly.

In March, we moved to a house with only a few steps making taking him out much easier.

It also cut down considerably on my Nitro consumption.

He grew as if fed fertilizer.

We finally had to admit that neither of us are any good at training dogs.

He is horribly behaved (though FINALLY house trained!).

He jumps on us and everyone.

He chases the other dog.

He steals food off the counter.

He slobbers on everything.

He drags us around on his leash.

I am unable to take him for walks.

We haven’t found a toy yet he cannot destroy in less than fifteen minutes.

He loves ripping out squeakers and sacttering stuffing all over the house.

Yet, he is as loving and gentle as an animal can be.

He loves everyone, especially the two of us.

 

He howls when we leave him and greets us with unashamed bliss when we return whether we’ve been gone ten minutes or a week.

Birdie, our tiny Chihuahua/Pomeranian mix still pretends she hates him, but washes his face when we aren’t looking.

She hogs his bed and loves to steal his rawhide once he gets it all gooey and soft.

Rudi thinks he weighs five pounds.

Birdie believes she weighs sixty.

They both consider themselves lap dogs and expect to be held as such.

His full name is Rudolph Cornelius and like the animated characters he is named after, he tames the wild beast in us with his antics, his massive size and enormous love.

Happy Birthday Rudi.

You are the most stupid and brilliant thing we ever did.

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4 Comments leave one →
  1. October 20, 2010 3:03 pm

    Happy Birthday Rudi!

    We used to have a Bassett. He was such a sweetheart! Mr. MaGoo is now crossed over the Rainbow Bridge but he was a love too.

    • October 26, 2010 3:18 pm

      I love that name, Mr McGoo. Bassets must have hearts even bigger than their feet.

  2. Donna permalink
    October 26, 2010 12:01 pm

    Doctors Without a Liscense…..that’s what I think of dogs! Yep, they have a magic power that is actually now recognized in the Medical world. There are several programs accross the country that bring dogs in to visit with patients in Rehab centers and Nurseing Homes. The results are pretty amazing….the patients really do better with the visits.

    Dogs have the ability to do the things that people do not. Dogs are totally non-discriminating …..they love without prejudice about race, religion, income, political affiliation or sexual orientation. I have the priviledge of living with 3 such amazing creatures. They are overjoyed to greet people….all people. They never meet a stranger! They are willing to accept and love all comers! My girls are an interesting mix – my big dog (she has weight issues and vasilates between 12 & 20 lbs) is an Italian Greyhound/Mini Pincher mix who is brown. Her name is ROO from Winnie the Poo. Next comes the “Queen of Everything,” FiFi Marie. She is a 9 lb. black Shitzu. She has no idea that she is a dog. My daughter calls her FiFi the Talking Dog. She bosses everyone and talks back to me endlessly. She does not bark at you, she makes these sounds that remind you or a cat or a bird…she talks, really! When she wants something (even in the middle of the night) she will sit down in the area of her desire and begin with an endless round of a single bark followed by a 30-45 second pause followed by another single bark. This bark pause bark pause can and does go on endlessly until she gets her way. She is one of those dogs that always has a toy in her mouth, a ball or stuffed bone are her favorites. She is the ALFA dog and makes Roo lay down and roll onto her back whenever she wants. Roo and FiFi are more than 10 years old and have been raised together. Last but not least is my baby, Joy. She is a AKC, registered and certified Pomerainian. She comes from a long line of Champion show dogs. She is a gigantic 4.5 lbs. and is mostly white with black and brown “spots”. Everyone just loves her, except FiFi, who only tolerates her. These are the “people” I live with.

    Here are the things the world could learn from my girls – Black, White and Brown, they live together. They eat and play together, they argue occassionaly, but they make up instantly. They never form a resentment. Even if scolded or placed in time-out (baby gated in the kitchen), after a moment of sulking, they clamor to show you how much they love you in spite of your bad judgement regarding their behavior. If threatened by something scarey like thunder…they immediately band together in a pile and bark together to defend themselves and each other. They greet everone with love and enthusiasm…if mutiple people arrive at the house, they race back and forth between the people to shower their love on everyone equaly.

    After my bypass, they helped my daughter to nurse me back to health. Some how they knew they could not jump on me, but had to approach me carefully. When I am ill now, they climb into bed and snuggle up against me. I can feel their little hearts beating against my body, so I am never sick & alone…I cannot explain the comfort this gives me.

    Happy Birthday to Rudi! What a different place this world could be if only people could learn the lessons of my girls and Rudi. How lucky we are to have them in our lives!

    • October 26, 2010 3:32 pm

      Rudi would love your girls. That Birdie loves you still boggles my mind. Birdie and FiFi sound a lot alike, bossing everyone around and getting their way, no matter what. I use to wonder about dog people, I just didn’t understand it. Then Gandhi, Holly’s first chihuahua came along and my heart burst open and the dogs rushed in. We are lucky indeed.

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