A Mess? Bark Yes!

Each day begins with me hearing a four legged friend next to me making noises in the morning.  It looked like a puppy that popped in the cage at night to get her milk bone but

what I see now is a contortionist! The sounds are that of the cage as she repositions herself moving her four legs in the oddest twisted positions, never looking remotely like the images of dogs seen curled up like a bug in a rug. Even outside the cage, she does this. Thus, my day begins with the sound of the cell rattling as if Tess is imprisoned. She seems the only one in the bedroom unbothered by the noise, as she rattles it with her four paws.

When I realize, after about 15 minutes into the rattling each morning, Tessie is into her stretchy phase of the morning festivities, I prepare myself to get up. She looks no different than her sleeping state in her cage now really, except her face is more into the contortions she does with her legs; she seemly meekly looks over and quickly it becomes a much more intense stare.. What is it about a dog staring at you that burns through you as if someone is continually poking you until you respond?  The power of a stare, wow, even pets have it innately! And we apparently are trained by them to respond.

Tess has grown over the last 18 months of her life into a slim but nice size labradoodle for me. After having a 125 lb. lab, a 55 lb. dog is sure a treat!  However, the pull on the lead can feel as strong as the smaller the dog, she seems to be able to get more traction at times. This is especially true when her two favorite things to go after are in sight, bunnies or geckos.  My husband and I try everything to get her distracted and if that won’t work, the commands start coming right and left before the dreaded “No Tessie” has to be stated, repeatedly. To date, no deaths!

It seems the minute I step out the door with her, someone is coming by in a golf cart. She is well-trained to sit when cars and carts go by. However, if someone wants to stop to see her, or as she feels, admire her, all bets are off. Then it begins a match between her wants and mine. She wants to levy out kisses and jump which is not allowed. We paid too much for training to have a disobedient dog. Too bad Tess doesn’t always subscribe to that line of thinking. She will push the limits when new people are near her, so eager to give out love. She desperately wants everyone to like her also. Perhaps she has self-esteem issues because she is kinda ugly. Oh shoot, her vet says the poodle part of her is very sensitive to comments about her looks and that I must tell her she is very pretty, regularly. I must say I am lax in that department. Who wants a dog with a big head?  

I kind of get Tessie, in a strange way. Her appearance is confusing making her probably a very confused individual who needs a lot of reassurance. She is a labradoodle but her DNA got crisscrossed and she is just plain unusual looking like God couldn’t make up which color to make her. Thus, she is like no other I’ve or many have seen.

Tessie’s mother was a chocolate brown and her father was a black poodle, Tessie is neither of these colors. What I see looking up at me is a continual changing mish-mash of white,

gray and shades of both, a variegated whatever is the best way to describe her, kind-of like the Muppet   from Sesame Street. Her tail is the exception, clearly black, been that way from day one and stayed that way.  Perhaps it was the one way of letting us know she was going to be just like her dad named Buddy, a gregarious large doggie, full of personality!  Tess’s hair is a mess   so more often than not I say “Tess, you are a mess” because when she is brushed, well she looks no different.

Speaking of different, when Tessie boards with her trainer, she is so good they can use her as a demonstration dog. Yep, the same dog I am talking about issues on the lead with jumping (and in the house with company, sometimes, as in totally unpredictable) they have a well-oiled machine!) They hand her back to us saying, if you have a problem, you are the problem.

Actually, in most all ways, we are good with her too. And she is a good dog. Issues many other pet owners have we don’t and we thank Tessie regularly when we hear of them.  No accidents, no destroying things in our house, no horrible separation anxiety or not obeying

house rules we have established e.g. certain furniture she can’t sit on. We even leave her in the house extended periods of time out of the cage all the time and come home to nothing out of place. The extent of her damage is eating paper out of the garbage. What is it about the taste of paper with her?  And she bugs me for feeding her my watermelon and yogurt. But I started the bad trend by feeding it to her in the first place. Wednesday night has become $1.00 ice cream cone night for not just us but cone night for Tess; she lucks out because I don’t like the cones! Technically, those are bad habits I suppose but every dog must have some bad vices. 

Tessie can be your best friend when you just want someone to snuggle with and other times, she prefers her space and prefers being left alone. Then, I have to entice her with a treat to even come up and sit with me on the bed.  There is one chair in the living room she has been trained she can sit on laps. She will literally fly through the air across the room to jump on the lap to plop on!  No warming just flying mass of a blur of silver, gray, off white and there is Tess in your lap. In a split decision, she’ll decide if your face or ears are dirty, and it will be hell to pay to get her to stop!

And yet, when she is done with the licking, with me, she curls up in my arms, and lays her head down. I feel I have a precious gift, and feel blessed. Many times, she literally falls asleep like this, in my arms, like a small dog. I hate to get up to disturb her. I want the moment to last awhile just like I felt when my kids had early morning feedings as newborns.  Except, it feels like a dead weight, but I bear it because it’s her, it’s Tessie and at the end of the day, I love her, mess and all!  She’s a mess but, hey, so am I so are we all. And yep, I love you Messy Tessie

Blame Grandma's Bread

When I was a kid, Grandma Gliatti’s house was where the sun and moon rose and never fell. And   top on the list was her homemade bread!  With a braided loaf of Italian bread on the table that you could literally tear into, heaven was there, on the old kitchen table and you didn’t have to die to get there! Thus began my love of bread and butter that has haunted me for years as in I can’t walk away from it! Why ever go out to eat, ever with a cook like her in the house, and on visits to Toledo to see her, we didn't!

It was interesting to learn the origins of bread. 8,000 B.C. in Egypt the first grinding stone was used to crush the first grain. The grinding stone they invented was called a “quern” and the bread was made along the Nile River Valley.  There is an entire evolution to be studied on the development of bread where it grew from those early stages to where it is today and all the various options taken for granted to today’s consumers everything from flatbread, cornbread, whole wheat bread, sesame bread, potato bread and on and on.

I thought, for years, I was alone besides my Italian family in my love of bread until I began working at Berman Printing in Cincinnati, Ohio. That job’s side benefit will always be a wonderful memory.Instead of doughnut runs in the morning, Friday pizza days, this place was my kind of operation!  They opted for “bread days’! Yep, they found a fabulous bread shop in downtown where all breads were homemade.

 

Everyone had to take turns making the runs with the pooled money in the pot. When it was your turn, you drove there and picked up an assortment of bread loaves and butter sticks and voila!  Every Friday we munched on breads and butter!  My word, was it heavenly, we devoured that bread. Friday mornings had the best attendance!

After leaving Berman, any other place I worked at, when I mentioned bread and butter runs, everyone thought I was talking about the bank. When I explained what I meant, I was met with odd stares.  So, back to reality, only Italians and apparently folks in the print world are nuts over bread. 

The bread industrial revolution took place in the beginning of the twentieth century. Prior to that time-frame, the majority of bread was sold in local mom and pop’s bakeries. After the revolution too place, grocery stores got into the game and took over the sales of breads and bakeries took a back seat. With it, bread making become a lost art form since it was so often now mass-produced. Sad too because too often, those of us that experienced the taste of homemade, and remember it know the chain grocery store bread's taste does not remotely compare to the bread of the past.

And yet bread is still contagious even if not as tasty. Healthy or not, I am eating it. Who cares if carbs are bad, so is drinking anything but water.  Grandma lived a long time on her bread and I am banking on the fact I will too. So eat your bread and butter too if you love it and don't listen to the neigh-sayers. We all have our obsessions and yours just happens to be one that has been around since 8,000 B.C.; it's stood the test of time and so will you!