June Reads

My book karma has been excellent lately! I've been into lighter non-fiction, and somehow they just keep turning up in my library queue. 

 First up: The Lost Ravioli Recipes of Hoboken by Laura Schenone. What do you do when you find your great-grandmother's ravioli recipe and it includes Philidelphia cream cheese? Go back to the source, in this case, the lemony, herby hills of Liguria.

My favourite part of this book was her sheer determination to learn to make authentic ravioli. I love my job, and I quite like yoga and reading, but I'm just not that passionate about anything. I borrowed her passion for an afternoon and make ravioli myself. It was delicious, and I felt like I'd really accomplished something other than stacks of marking.

I also really liked the way that she was honest about her own struggles with her family and the ambiguity of looking for "authentic" family traditions. In the end, her father prefers ravioli with cream cheese. Who cares.

Next up: Bringing up Bebe by Pamela Druckerman.

Dogs are, of course, not human. You can leave your annoying dog in the house and go to yoga. You can't do this with your child, your spouse or your coworker. But some of Druckerman's advice jells with my favourite pieces of dog-related advice which I am convinced also work on the humans in your life.

1. Decide what your limits are (the French cadre) and stick to them. Mozart is allowed to sleep in the bed and climb on the couch, but he wears a cat collar from Walmart and he isn't allowed to pee on the landscaped shrubs or grass in front of the apartment building. I was on the strata. Those shrubs cost more than he did.

2. Observe before acting. On walks, Mozart prefers maniacal sniffing to covering actual ground. Treats weren't working. Pulling wasn't working. Finally, I read somewhere (Caesar?) to observe how dogs behave together. When we picked him up from the breeder, his aunties herded him around the kitchen like a herd of boarder collies with one small sheep. Now, I just walk right up behind him and cajole him on his furry little way.

3. You have to mean no.

Final book: The Churchills in Love and War by Mary S. Lovell.

Someone once told Winston Churchill that his infant child looked like him. He replied that all babies look like him. It's funny because it's true!

His family is full of American dollar princesses, Dukes, expensive cases of champagne, crumbling country houses, ambition, dysfunctional children and, of course, hilarity. This was a great read.

The $340 Granola Recipe

1. Make granola from a recipe loosely based on this recipe and your sister's version: 3 cups of oats, 1/4 cup peanut butter, 1/4 cup apple sauce, splash of maple syrup, splash of canola oil, handful of diced apples, teaspoon of cinnamon, and a handful of raisins. Bake for 30 minutes at 350. Cool.

2. Begin to transfer to a plastic container. While in complicated mid-pour, watch as a raisin falls on the floor and your dog darts into the kitchen and eats it. 

3. Google, "Are raisins poisonous to dogs?" Answer: yes.

4. Of course, the regular, very reasonably-priced vet has just closed for the evening. Decide not to fix the situation yourself by driving very quickly around the block in your friend's Mazda 3 with your dog in the back. 

Take dog to emergency vet clinic to induce vomiting. Total cost to you: $340.

Cruising

Mozart and I were outside obedience class last week when one of the pupils pulled up in this adorable wicker pet bike carrier. (Hers even had roll bars for added safety.) It looks more comfortable than the bus for everyone involved.

You know what they say...

Are Mozart and I starting to look alike?

You're Dead to Me

The puppy class teacher thought we should put clothes on the dogs to get them used to being handled by vets and groomers. Mozart did not agree. Those socks were off a second later.

Can I ask you a favour?

It takes a village to raise a puppy.

I have been asking a lot of favours lately because 1) Mozart can't yet stay alone as long as we have to go to work and 2) I love the little dude, but I have no idea what I'm doing.

My lovely neighbour checks in on Mozart at 10:00 am and walks him at noon. Because of this, he can happily last from 8:30 to about 3:30, and I can concentrate at work without worrying. My sister, her boyfriend and my lovely friend A. have been checking in on him periodically and walking/chaperoning him for anywhere from an hour to half a day. While I sometimes worry about taking advantage of them, there is reciprocity in our relationships. I can pay them back.

But then we leave the zone of personal relationships and enter the zone of favours from strangers. The puppy class teacher is kind, and I try to emulate the calm, kind voice she uses. I have emailed her twice with questions that expand upon what we do in class. Her last reply was missing those tell-tale signs of intermediate intimacy, salutations. Can you email your puppy class teacher with questions, or should you be paying for that advice? I give heeps of advice to my students in emails, but it would be a conflict of interest for me to charge them for my tutoring services. Also, I'm A type.

Where I'm not sure that I'm A type, however, is with my dog. My boyfriend and I are just not routine people. Mozart is potty trained, sleeping through the night, not barking or biting, but I may have a pinched nerve in back from his pulling on the leash. How do I know that? A. is a physiotherapist. She hates giving advice. Now I owe her twice.

Lock up your shoes!

We have entered the team sport of puppy ownership. It is a collaborative effort that has us enlisting the direct assistance of friends, family and neighbours. I have used more paper towel in the last two weeks than I ever used in my entire life. I am too tired to shop for clothes, shoes or food, which makes the direct financial impact of the pup nil even considering the colossal amount of stuff that rotates around him. We take pictures of him in compromising positions, such as sleeping and bathing. We are trying extremely hard not to walk around carrying him or wake him up when he is sleeping - which is constantly - because we want to play with him. I am personally contemplating puppy daycare, but at least he still doesn't have a sweater.