Living with Luce

I threw out a lot of butter. You know how you sometimes need to soften the butter before baking? I would put it in a covered butter dish, lay a dishtowel over it and then put bowls and pots around the edges. Then I would get distracted and return to the kitchen to see an impossibly furry tail under the dish towel and the sounds of happy lip-smacking.

I'd use my stern, Darth Vader voice, "Luuuuuuuce,,,"

And this little binky-face would look at me - whiskers all glistening from butter crumbs and a nose and lips moistened by fat.

I learned to lock up the butter in the china cabinet.

I threw out flour, sugar, cornstarch and salt. And turned the chairs around effectively keeping Luce in jail.

He enjoyed caviar.

And he never got terribly big. So you always had to check the back of the dishwasher before you closed it.

And he got away with every mischievous thing a cat can do - because he made everyone smile.

He was front and center for rehearsals in my home. And if an actor suddenly darted down - we knew that actor was rubbing Luce's tummy.

Luce learned from Pip how to lay on my laptop and become the quintessential "writer's block."

And even at 22 months - his fur and whiskers pointed in many directions giving him the appearance of Einstein.

I'm glad he had his butter and caviar escapades. My daughter posted, "You think you get years. But sometimes you get months. And in those months they become family." And if 20 months ago, I knew the outcome - if 20 months ago - I knew I would only get 20 months and then there would be pieces of my heart a bit crumbly and wobbly - I'd do it all over again. I'd bring little "wild-boy-found-in-the-woods" into our home (and hearts) because living with Luce was a confection. Living with Luce was monkeyshine and mayhem. Living with Luce was adventures in the sand - pieces of seashells from other places and other times. Living with Luce was love. 

Sharing Salads with Sadie

If you sat at the right end of the couch, you had to pet Sades. It was required. She nuzzled you until you did. Guests were forewarned of this when they sat there. Anyone who visited was nuzzled and loved by Sadie. And left full of fur.

As we walked along the lake, she actively sought out dead fish to roll around in and was pleased with her aroma. She was a locomotive blazing paths in deep snow, an avid rodent hunter and she loved her vegetables. I never chopped a vegetable without Sadie directly underneath me hoping for an "oops." There were quite a few "oops."

In her older age, she developed a love of artichokes. Both she and the cat came running when I sliced artichoke hearts. And I sliced artichoke hearts all winter. Which was 6 months long. Bear with me - the recipe's coming. It has made my year of "mindful eating" relatively easy. A good salad will do that.

Cats and dogs can be friends.

Sadie loved her tomatoes. In the last years when she was blind, she would sniff them out and have her fill of sun-ripened plum tomatoes. Not wanting her to have an excess of the stuff, I put the tomatoes in pots and moved them around the yard but she sniffed them out. Eventually, I would just have to beat her out the back door in the morning if I wanted tomatoes.

Eight and a half years ago, I went to Petco for guinea pig food and returned with Sadie. One of the best decisions of my life. She was my solution to my mid-life crisis. The kids were graduating from "something" every two years and I could see my child-rearing days were coming to a close. I told Sadie she was never going to graduate from anything.

She was a rescue dog. One look into her chocolate-brown eyes and I was smitten. I don't know if I chose her or she chose me. (My friend Brian did suggest that Sadie chose her human.) For 8-1/2 years she was our stress-buster and our smile.

Her nose was often dyed yellow from zucchini blossoms or red from the tomatoes. And scraped from chasing chipmunks up drain spouts. Sades had a technicolor snout during the summer.

I still find myself setting aside bits and pieces of salads for Sadie. This salad is so simple - I hardly call it a recipe. It's earthy - a bright smile all year - which is why both Sadie and I love it. And easy.

For 2-3 people + 1 salad eating dog:
1-2 packages of thawed artichoke hearts - sliced thin
3 celery ribs - sliced thin
1/2 fennel bulb - again sliced thin
Shaved Parmigiano-Reggiano - you determine the amount
Salt and pepper to taste
a fistful of chopped (fresh) Italian parsley

Dressing:
2 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon freshly-squeezed lemon (I do equal amounts)

Think of it as crunchy sunshine. Try it - and share it.

"To some, she's an animal. To me, she is an adopted daughter who is short, furry, walks on all fours and doesn't always speak clearly."


Sadie: 1998-May 2011
Forever in our hearts.