A Shivering Stray that Didn't Get Away

Tonight, I walked home from a/perture cinema (the independent arthouse theatre just up from the house on Fourth Street), after catching their special screening of "The Hottest August." As is the custom, I let Sumner out for his potty break but we were immediately derailed from our mission by the lightning-fast dash of a terrified small pooch, emerging from the dark of the back corner of the parking lot, spooked I'm sure by Sumner picking up his scent. It was a repeat of what had occurred first thing this morning, except on that earlier encounter the escapee took off for Fourth Street and I could get no where close to him. I was surprised to find he was back in the yard this evening.

Fortunately, when he fled tonight with Sumner close on his heels, he ran around the northwest corner of the house, straight into the walled-and-fenced dead-end where the HVAC units are. There he froze and cowered. I spent about 15 minutes talking and wooing and coaxing him but he would not let me pick him up. With Sumner left to stand guard, I got my work gloves (I didn't want him to draw any more blood) and Hav-A-Hart cage and managed to scoop him up and safely deposit him there.

UPDATE. I had messaged Erin Turner, who arranged for the adoption of Cyprus back in 2011, and who now runs Stepping Stones Canine Rescue. She hooked me up with her vet and I took this cutie in on Thursday morning. They scanned for a chip and were able to contact the owner for pickup. So, a happy ending for a pooch named Theo, who was lost but now is found!

[Insert Poop Pun Here]

Before the loss of dear sweet Cyprus, I had on a wild hair purchased a poop station because it certainly did seem needed! But then she passed away and it went into the attic for the last couple of years.

Now, though, the Roediger House is home to the precious pup Sumner who is quite a regular pooper in his own right. Here in the heat of summer, I am reminded why it stinks (!) to have a poop bucket at the back corner of the house...and since Sumner has been well-conditioned to do his business on the mulch in the azalea area along the south property line, bringing back out the dog waste station and installing it over there just made a lot of sense to me. I am a man who seems to lack moderation.

Count that as another item on the extensive house to-do list...completed.

Sumner Breezes In

As was mentioned back at the end of February, it has been a hard year since the loss of Roediger House mascot and sweet bundle of snug Cyprus. It is a breaking of the heart that was unlike any other loss in my life and it still catches me off guard. She was pretty awesome, and that's an understatement. I've heard it said that it can take a good year before a dog lover can move on when a much-favored pet passes. Turns out, that's true for me.

Blame the wild but adorable neighbor dog, Hambone, for putting serious cracks in my steely resolve not to have or fall in love with another dog, when he took temporary refuge here a few weeks ago. I could not get over the intensified feeling that there has been a huge hole in the heart of this house for a year now, and the only way to fill it is to welcome in a new addition to the family.

Say hello to Sumner, who arrived at the Roediger House today to take up residence. Like Cyprus, Sumner comes from the Animal Adoption and Rescue Foundation here in Winston-Salem. Last weekend, when Saturday afternoon had turned sunny and warm and bright, he was preciously stretched out in a grassy gated area at AARF, in all his blonde glory, intently mangling a rawhide, and effortlessly sold himself as the right guy for the job of bringing pet love back into the homestead. As of now, it's believed he's a whippet/lab mix but I'll have the DNA run on him when he makes his first vet visit. He's younger than I'd prefer, at about a year old, but I sure do look forward to his long and happy tenure here.

Within his first hour in his new domicile, he was already looking pretty happy and content. And so was I.

Oh, and he's a cover model, too:

A Man and His Dog

Today marks a year since the departure of the amazing Cyprus of Roediger House, and I find myself a bit tore up.

Meal No. 1492: Shrimp and Goat Cheese Grits with Roasted Red Pepper Sauce

Last Tuesday night, before the Wednesday storms that knocked out power and before the sad, sad day this weekend when Cyprus was sent to her final rest, I returned to this enticing take on shrimp and grits from the Tupelo Honey Cafe. It depends on Creole seasoning and roasted red pepper strips for a great burst of flavor, and it fed our small crew more than sufficiently for a weeknight meal.

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"Shrimp and Goat Cheese Grits with Roasted Red Pepper Sauce," in Tupelo Honey Cafe: Spirited Recipes from Asheville's New South Kitchen, by Elizabeth Sims with Chef Brian Sonoskus. Kansas City: Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC (2011), p. 100-101, 179.

Guidance for making the creamy grits: Luquire Family Stone Ground Grits, milled in Greenwood, SC.

Three Needles

The first needle contains a mild sedative, enough to make Cyprus sleepy and to slip into slumber. Initially, she's still got her head up, turning her chin up for kisses, but then come the larger-than-life yawns that she's always been afflicted by. (Hence, one of her nicknames: "Sleepy Pot Pie.") She finally lowers her head, nestled between her extended front paws, in that most typical of Cyprus sleeping stances.

A few minutes pass, and now comes the second needle, a general anesthetic to guard against any chance of pain or discomfort. Her sleepful repose is uninterrupted by this venous intrusion. She slumbers on, her most favorite of pastimes.

The third needle is the sealer of fates. Dr. Gessner eases it gently into her slowly pulsating vein, first in her forepaw and then in her muscled rear leg. It does not take long. She undeliberately settles or shifts over on her side now, and with little ceremony has ceased her breathing. Her heart is strong, though, and does not as quickly surrender, but then she lets go.

Cyprus arrived at the Roediger House not quite five years ago, a rescued young adult who'd been saved from the pound because she arrived there full-bellied with three puppies and AARF took them all. Once her litter was weaned, she was made available for adoption on the very Saturday that I went looking for a pet. It was easy to fall in love with her.

But it turns out that she was not the healthiest of creatures. First came the thyroid troubles, then the massive weight gain, then the rapid weight loss and blindness in one eye that led to the diagnosis of diabetes just over a year ago. Then she lost vision in her other eye. We never got her sugar under control and ketoacidosis loomed as a likely killer.

Her regular bouts with diarrhea were mostly controlled, although she did have two episodes of explosive outputs when locked in her crate during the day. After that, she became frantic and highly anxious about being confined there and, somehow, managed to claw and force her way out of the crate in a way that to this day I still do not understand. I tried using child safety gates after that to secure her in an upstairs shower stall, but she clawed and pushed until she broke out of those holding cells, even losing toenails and bleeding in the process.

A few weeks ago, she busted out of the shower stall but also began clawing at the bathroom door, something she's never ever done.

This led me to create a pretty hardcore barricade from a washing machine drain basin, the child safety gate, an old closet rod, and a mess of zip ties.

She initially fought it as well, rubbing the hair and skin off her front leg and leaving blood across the top of the enclosure, but it finally defeated her prison break mentality.

That did not lessen the degree to which this blind diabetic hypothyroidic bundle of snug continued to feel miserable, though. Within the last two or three weeks, it appeared as though she might also have had a mild stroke. One of today's hard realizations is that she has not felt good in a very long time, but she was always a trooper and was sweet and loving and precious and adorable, and now that girl is gone.

I will not be alone in missing her, for she had many indulgent fans among the Roediger House regulars:

It has been a sad, sad day at the Roediger House.

MLK Weekend at the Roediger House

It's been a mighty fine weekend here at the Roediger House, especially because I've gotten to enjoy a visit from my oldest sibling Janice. She came up Saturday and headed back home today. In the meantime, we got to talk and catch up and reminisce and share, while also partaking of some reasonably decent meals here.

Our first winter weather mini-event hit Sunday morning, so she had the additional treat of getting to see some snow before it quickly disappeared:

I mustache you a question.

Janice made the north parlour look so cozy by curling up on the sofa to read on our lazy Sunday afternoon, tucked under the afghan that our Great Aunt Lee made for me when I was a small tyke.

I had always thought Aunt Lee was widowed young, leading her to go and live with her sister (my Grandmother Jones), but Jan says Aunt Lee's husband went off to sell a load of tobacco and just never came back. Aunt Lee was always wonderful about sending five dollars every birthday. I don't remember being all that good about sending her back a thank-you note, however.

With temps in the mid-20s this morning, and a forecast high of only 32°F today, I had to make a fire when I got up early. I'm home all day, so I'll enjoy the warmth and the crackle and the faint smell of woodsmoke.

Fire No. 32

Meal No. 1434: Chicken with Coronation Sauce

Yesterday was December 12th, and it was a picture-perfect blue-sky sunny warm day here in Winston-Salem. The temps hit just past 70°F and there were some light breezes. My view out the attic window just after mid-day shows the neighboring office building (751 West Fourth) bathed in sunshine with bright blue skies behind it. If you look closely, you'll see people down on the sidewalk near the middle of the picture in t-shirt and shorts.

I got outside and did a second round of gathering the leaves and piling them at the curb. There were still a lot of 'em on the Bradford pear tree, as well as in a tree along the back wall, so I might have to rake one more time.

I also have to note that my crazy azalea bushes are largely STILL in bloom. They started in early October, and they've held their blooms for over two months now. It's blowing my mind.

I did a quick run to the store to grab something fairly easy for dinner last night, and I settled on chicken with coronation sauce. This is one of the house favorites that proved most satisfying to the small Saturday night crew on hand for it.

Downtown Winston-Salem, mid-morning
Taken from Wake Forest Innovation Quarter
(the other side of downtown from the house)

As for today (Sunday), our fair city woke up blanketed in an incredibly thick fog. When I took Cyprus out in the morning, this was what it looked like to try to view the city skyline:

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"Coronation Sauce for Chicken," from 400 Sauces, by Catherine Atkinson, Christine France, and Maggie Mayhew. Hermes House (2006, 2008), p. 155.

Sweet Unsettled Cyprus

This is what rejection and refusal looks like.

Poor sweet diabetic blind Cyprus: she's been on a run of about a week or more of not eating, or eating very little. When she doesn't eat, she can't get her insulin, and when she doesn't get her insulin, she doesn't feel good, so she doesn't eat. As has been noted in the past, when we get into this cycle, it can sometimes really spiral out of control, so I've been on edge about this.

I have no idea what's going on with her, or why her appetite seems so off. She's eaten small portions on and off at mealtime, but she sure has skipped a lot of food lately.

This past Saturday morning was the first time she seemed to eagerly scoop up every last morsel, with enthusiasm, so it was a good sign for sure.

October Azaleas

Before I left town this past Sunday, I happened to notice the huge burst of color from my "blooming again" azaleas along the driveway. All this wet dreary weather had me sequestered inside; else I might have missed it altogether. It's pretty cool to see how bursting with color they were this year, which is a huge improvement over the last few.

Cyprus enjoyed getting out of the house a bit, too, and going on one of her sniffaris through the now-thick-and-rainsoaked grass. In this photo, you can see pretty clearly how ghosted her eye is, now that she has become sightless:

A Return to Fall

After several days of work at the Pilgrim School in Los Angeles, I returned home today and was greeted by a distinct change in the weather!

Apparently, I had the good luck to be in LA during their typical one-week September heat wave, because we had temps at or near 100°F for the three days I was out there on the job. I had the pleasure of working with an amazing leadership team there, though, and while it is incredibly intense and potentially quite draining, they rose to all challenges and were still energized and smiling when we emerged on the other side of our sessions.

I especially appreciated the nice note that the Dean of Instruction sent me on his way out of town Friday afternoon (shown at right).

It had been quite a while since I'd been to LA, and this is my first exposure to the Pilgrim School. It was terrific. We identified quite a few areas that might be worth tackling together, so perhaps there will be future occasions to work with these fine folks again.

My dear friend Sheryl (we were together at the University of Virginia in our respective education PhD programs, nearly 20 years ago!) was a fantastic host, as always.

As I mentioned at the top of this post, though, the weather has taken a decidedly fall-like turn back here in Winston-Salem, and it is gorgeous. My single clump of iris that, to me, blooms at strange times, has been quiet all summer and greeted me with this beautiful bloom when I came in from the airport:

While I believe deep down Cyprus is glad to have me home again, she cannot get over her fascination with the trailing scents of either the chipmunk or the rat that's been scampering around in the flower beds the last few weeks. When I took her outside, she paid me no mind but that wonderful blind bombshell was on high sniff alert:

A Weeklong Cass Party

This past week the Roediger House has played host to Amy Williamson's pooch, a papillon named Cass while she was enjoying time down in the Florida Keys for vacation and family visiting. Cass is a great little guy and always seems so happy. He's an easy guest to have here for a multiday stay.

A Squirrel's Bucket List

I keep my birdseed in a small roller cart plastic trashcan, close to the majority of my bird feeders located in the small grove beside the house. It's been relatively safe there for several years now, but I'm afraid a particularly aggressive squirrel has decided he's not content with the droppings and fallings from the feeders and thinks it's time he scored the big time. Do you see the big hole he's eaten into the lid, above?

I've been using the same bucket kept inside of this trashcan, which used to be the form for the birdseed I'd buy at Sam's Club. That was years ago, and now you can only buy the seed in bags there. (You understand, don't you, that I have to buy seed in bulk?) It's an old plastic bucket and the bottom is cracked but I love it. Well, that squirrel made a bit of a mess of it:

I figured he's risen to the level of inescapable nuisance by this point, so it was time to set out the Havahart® trap, and I got him relatively quickly:

He was wild, wild, wild, and it was nearly impossible to get a good mug shot of him. I loaded him into the back of the truck, put a highly-agitated Cyprus into the truck cab with me, and drove this rascal up to a large cemetery near R.J. Reynolds's tech center. When I opened up the trap, I think he must've launched himself into a 15-foot leap off the railing of the truck bed. He was gone like a shot!

Meal No. 1333: Ultimate Creamy Tomato Soup & Grilled Cheese Sandwiches

Tonight I made ultimate cream of tomato soup and grilled cheese paninis, which seemed to go over well with the guests who were here. Since I had to take Cyprus into the vet this afternoon when I came in from the road, I didn't make it to the grocery store, and this is a great meal I can make just with things from the pantry.

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"Ultimate Cream of Tomato Soup," from Cook's Illustrated, November 1999. Recipe can also be found online at Cookography.com.

Cyprus Is a Sick Girl

Hitting the (approximate) six-year-old mark has not proven to be good for sweet Cyprus. She is diabetic and she is blind. And she's falling apart. Last month, she developed issues that sort of shut down her gastrointestinal system, leading to vomiting and extreme diarrhea and then she became ketotic and her body was beginning to digest itself. She was bleeding out a most foul discharge.  I had to sequester her in the shower so that she didn't leave a trail all over the house:

This led to an emergency vet visit, of course, that then led to a hurried trip to Greensboro for an ultrasound and consult with a specialist veterinary internist. They hospitalized her for two days.

Belly Shaved for the Ultrasound

Shaved Spot for the IVs

She got better for a while but today, our house-sitters then reported that she did not eat and pooped multiple times and it resolved to terrible diarrhea. Diarrhea, of course, isn't scoopable poop, so the backyard is now dotted all over with shovels-full of scooped topsoil:

Update. As soon as I drove in from Asheville Thursday afternoon, I took her to the vet and waited until they could work us in. The vet thinks it's essentially the same GI issue and re-prescribed medication to control the diarrhea so that we could try to get her on track again. You could tell how bad she felt as we headed back home after that:

She ate her dinner most voraciously Thursday night but then has refused to eat again for the following two days. That means I can't give her any insulin, which means she continues to feel bad, which means she's not hungry, and it's just a vicious cycle. Her bout of this in June proved that's it's also viciously expensive: those few days tallied to around two grand.