Where to begin...

On Saturday, I drove a half hour southwest because I was expecting a special delivery.  This package came all the way up from Alabama.  It was a rather surprise package, as I hadn't planned on delivery for quite some time and I had no (well, a little) idea of what this package would contain.

NOT from Amazon.com

Meet OnceBennyNowBertie.  He had the same foster mother as Lovey.  That woman can be persuasive.

Where the heck am I?

Needless to say, things were interesting on the LLF this weekend.

Introductions were a little spastic, but once I got Bertie and Lovey on leads and out the door, all friction was forgotten and both noses were going gangbusters, side by side.  Overall, it was a very smooth transition - The Pepperoni was introduced through his crate door (he is still recovering from his near-pneumonia), Bertie ignored the cats, and, aside from the occasional all-show-showing of teeth when competing for my attention, it was great.

Then Bertie developed Kennel Cough.  It's like Whooping Cough for dogs.  I can tell you the exact moment it manifested itself - 12:33A Monday morning.  I am glad I had planned to take the day off because there was another trip to the vet - where we were ushered in through the back door, Typhoid-Mary-like.  It's very contagious.  Now I have two dogs on antibiotics but at least Bertie manages to get his Robitussin down without drama.  Lovey got a booster on her vaccine and we are hoping it works.

We love Bertie.  Love him.  He is a difficult dog to describe - part Basset (short legs), maybe some Lab (lethal tail, chunky body), and then some Heinz 57.  He came to us as Ben, but did not respond to his name at all.  My vet and I were trying to figure out a good name, when the vet tech said, "He looks like a little lion, ala Bert Lahr."  I said "Bertie", and he looked up.  It stuck.  Kennel Cough and all, he is a delightful playmate for Lovey, has an endearingly lovable personality, and is different enough from my beloved Scrappy to not cause my heart to break every time I look at him.

*****

Needless to say, not a lot got done this long weekend, although I am still sticking to my meal planning and it is going along swimmingly.  I had so much leftover soup that I didn't have to make any this weekend - a plus, considering - and I tried a new salad recipe that I really like: Citrus Rice Salad with Parmesan.  It lasts and gets better with age, paired well with a nice piece of broiled Ahi Tuna I found in my freezer, and will be a quick dinner fix.  I also delved into my Moosewood cookbook collection and made a Tunisian Frittata with Spicy Tomato Sauce.  Good!  Also has a good rate of keep-ability, so that will interplay with the salad for dinner/lunch over the week.  I whipped up another batch of Strawberry Cheesecake Oatmeal - using the last of my strawberries - and made a batch of granola.  Am I the only one who feels both euphoria and dread when using up something out of the freezer?  I am half thrilled to be using something up, while harboring a dread that I will go hungry because I am using up my food. 

*****

The weather is...weird.  We have had the longest stretch of unseasonably warm, gloomy weather that I can ever remember in January.  The sun came out - finally - on Sunday and lasted for 15 minutes.  I dropped everything and sent out and sat on the deck steps, faced it and closed my eyes.  I sat there for the full 'duration'.  Then, starting last night, the temps dropped and I woke up to two inches of sleet.  It was quite a shock for Bertie, but he is a stalwart fellow and, after a brief pause on the doorstep, charge out into the cold unknown.

*****

I wore my pussyhat all day Saturday and cataloged a variety of reactions - 95% were positive and supportive.  5% were the expected nasty comments.  Bertie put the brakes on when he first saw me.  After all, when I do pink (finally), I do bubblegum pink.  I guess he figured that it wasn't any more alarming than two days in a crate in a dark truck, emerging into foreign everything.  The sheep froze, backed up slowly and stared at me.  It is currently resting atop the plaster cast of "Don" that my father did and gave me for my 40th birthday.  It will be a constant reminder of the mindfulness that I need to practice to safeguard my - and every woman's/human's/animal's/planet's - rights going forward.  PussyHat!  Hear me roar!

Rrrarr!