Bedlam Farm Blog Journal by Jon Katz

On “Talking To Animals” today, we had a vibrant and interesting talk about animal intelligence and animal consciousness. I’m going to keep talking about that over the next few weeks. When I think of animal consciousness, I think of donkeys, the most aware animals I have yet encountered.

They are stoics, living very much in the now. A storm is nothing to these hardy and intuitive creatives, they have endured the worst wort of humanity and survived. I am grateful to have Lulu an Fanny in my life. I believe they are acutely aware of who they are and who we are.

The winter seems to have turned hard and cold, for me, for so many others. The sheep and donkeys miss grazing, they seem restless and frustrated to be penned into the Pole Barn. There is nothing much we can do for them, they will have to tough it out like the rest of us.

Pumpkin,  Biddy and Izzy were waiting for me when I came out to check on their water late this afternoon, I think they were hoping for something more. Fate and Red came out with me, but the sheep just lined up in hope and expectation. I had nothing for them.

We are expecting about eight inches of snow tonight, the Weather Channel forgot to name the storm, so nobody is frightened of it. “I’ll call it winter,” said one of the cashiers at Stewart’s, the convenience store in town.

We’re having another winter storm tonight, so I decided to do another Storm Pizza, a new winter tradition. I see the pizzas as a healthy meal – whole grain crust and fresh, healthy toppings.

So tonight, a Veggie Pizza, warming up for the Spring.  I don’t think I’ll do many pizzas in the summer, too heavy a meal for then. But on this cold and stormy night, it was a blessing.

Ingredients:

One multi-grain dough, from the supermarket.

(Rolled it in wheat flour,

had cornmeal on the plate beneath the crust.)

Marinara sauce.

Grated parmesan cheese over the sauce lightly.

Garlic past spread on the dough.

Sliced sweet potato, pre-cooked at 475 degrees for eight minutes.

Sliced squash.

Spinach leaves.

Kale, and Kale Sprouts.

Red pepper bits for color and flavor.

Chopped scallion (not a lot)

Baked the crust first, 10 minutes at 475 degrees,

until the crust was crisp.

Rim brushed with virgin olive oil.

Then spread the sauce, sprinkled the cheese, and laid out the potatoes first, the squash on the inner ring, spread the broccoli bits around and then placed a spinach leaf over the potatoes and squash, placed the red pepper chunks where there were empty spaces.

I brushed olive oil around the rim.

Baked the pie for 11 minutes.

We were happy with it, the Storm Pizza is a great way to mark a nasty snow and ice storm.

I can’t lie, I don’t love going to the dentist, but when all of the people who work at the dentist are warm and welcoming and gentle, and each one of them is a mad-for-animals dot lover, it’s almost fun. Okay, sometimes it is fun.

I dare not go there without bringing Red, and once in awhile, they even ask me how I am. He loves being there, and the staff just adores dogs, and they especially love Red. Red usually comes and lies just outside the examining room where my teeth are being cleaned or worse.

He lies still and waits, and one by one, the techs and doctors and office staff come and say hello, talk to him, give him hugs. He is such a part of the experience at Cambridge Family Dental, and he certainly  helps me to feel at ease.

Red is a certified therapy dog, he can go anywhere that he is welcome, and a few places where he isn’t. The trip touched my heart today, the dental staff knew he was sick and clustered around him, which he loves. Red has been the center of attention so long, it just seems natural to him.

It is a particular gift to have a dog who is so loved he brings light to every place he goes. I have to admit the staff there is special, if I have to go to the dentist, I hope it will always be there, although I got a good scolding for missing my regular cleanings. That will be rectified on March ll.

Tuesday was my day to read to the Mansion residents, I went there about 1 p.m. They LOVED the story of Maud, the sweet 88-year-old lady who has a tendency to murder people she doesn’t like or who are bad. They love poems and short stories too.

But I had another mission. Red was with me, making the rounds, offering his usual comfort and grace, and then he lay down next to me to sleep. I knew I had to tell the residents about Red’s sickness, and the truth: that he was failing, and could live a good while, or have his spine fracture deteriorate again, and have to be put down.

The vet was pretty clear that the prognosis was not good,  his heart is weakening, he is moving less and less. They needed to know, there are few people to whom Red is as important as these people, they have been loving him and awaiting him for several years now. He means a lot to them.

I told them everything, his injuries, his paralysis, the diagnosis, the prospects. There was absolute silence. No tears no questions,, no change in expression, except they were alert and focused, and listening to every word.

Red’s relationship with these people was extraordinarily, meaningful, beautiful and deep. They would feel his loss in a very personal and deep way. But I didn’t want them to find out about Red’s troubles in any other way than from me. And I didn’t want them to be shocked by any sudden or unexpected news. They get enough of that.

Sickness and death are no strangers at the Mansion, the residents see it, feel it and live it almost every day. They know how to process bad news.

I finished my report on Red and just sat in silence for a moment. Only one person, spoke, Alice, who had been listening closely, she loves Red dearly.

“Of course,” she said.

And that was the end of our discussion about Red.