My little Min-Pin

People who don’t have dogs live an unfulfilled life.

I am at home with my dog Shazdeh.   There is a time everyday that he follows me around, wondering when exactly I will do something that can be interpreted as going for a W-A-L-K.  I pull on my pants, he tilts his head in a what-are-you-doing expression.  I put on my socks, the ears are up, the tail is wagging and the interest is heightened.  I am now stalked around the house, stepping over him to get down the stairs.  And when I put on the shoes, all hell breaks lose.  Barking, tail wagging so hard his entire body is percolating.  He knows me well.

Shazdeh can handle the leash much better these days than before when he pulled with the strength of a workhorse to reach a destination.  So much to smell and so much to stain with his scent.  But there is always a time when he stops, which when I ask him to “stay”.  He maintains the “stay” position long enough for me to reach down and unleash him — and then he bolts.  Freedom.  Shazdeh only has 2 speeds — his prince like gait and lightening fast.  Watch out crows, watch out squirrels, he’ll try to catch you.  And watch out other dogs, cause he likes how your behind smells.  When he is so free, I cannot help but smile.

Is there a way to express how much I love this dog?  How he bundles up under his blanket to sleep, only sticking his nose out so that in case an interesting smell wanders by, he’ll catch it.  How he will position himself in every nook and cranny available around your legs so that he is comfortable.  How he watches the sun rise over the lake from his window front seat, how he will do any trick for a little treat, it all warms my heart.

There are times when our relationship is a bit difficult, such as when he makes incredible awkward eye contact when he is squeezing one out, or when you have to entertain other humans to distract them from Shazdeh’s violent butt sniffing of their dog.  Or when he disappears for long periods of time — most likely hearing my distress calls, but choosing to ignore them.  I remember once Sina and I took him hiking, and we saw a baby black bear and everyone told us that we should try to avoid getting near the baby as its mom was most likely nearby.  We held onto Shazdeh as we feared he’d try to smell the baby cub, but later we lost him somewhere on the trail.  After yelling for him for 10 minutes, I came to the conclusion that he had fallen off the cliff or been killed by the mother bear.  I remember trying to justify his end to my family — “yes, he died, but he died in nature” or “he helped the food chain survive”.  But then, at the last second, he appears, bouncing through the woods with his tongue wagging.  And the barking is annoying.  Oh sweet lord – the uncontrollable loud painful barking…

His Napoleon complex, so clear in his aggressive growling and barking, is matched with his endless curiousity and his fear of everything.  He once barked at a neighbors cat through a glass door, and when the door was opened he dashed out until he noticed that the cat was 1 – bigger than him 2 – not scared.  The cat eventually lazily raised a paw at swatted at Shazdeh’s nose, and he ran home and hid in his crate for hours.

He will do ANYTHING for food.  ANYTHING.  We have pumped his stomach, and then decided it is pointless, so we just pray that the chocolate/onion/raw meat/vitamins will pass somehow.

What is he thinking?  If only I knew.  But I know more than once he has concluded my feelings perfectly, cuddling up to me when things were tough or when I was scared to be home alone.  I know that when his ears are down, he is ignoring my mom.  When his tail is down he is distressed, when his hair on his spine is up, he is scared, and when he limps, he has once again slipped/crashed/ran into another animal or object.

How can I express his patience with children who ask if he is a good dog (my response…ummm….sometimes) and then allows them to run their hands all over his body with no more than a sad, sorrowful glance my way?

Does a word exist for the type of love one has for a dog, one whose ears perk up when I yell at him through skype, who remembers me everytime I come home?  P & I talk about getting a dog one day, but for me, I will NEVER love a dog or have the same relationship with another animal.  I have never known a creature with loyalty so true and fierce.  It is impossible for me to describe, especially if you have never had a relationship with a dog.  But let me tell you, you are missing out.

Other European Eating Habits

The Dutch drink alot of milk.  When I was there for a training, we had cheese sandwiches everyday and to drink they brought cartons and cartons of milk.  All of the Dutch drank glass after glass of cold milk, which to me, was a bit bizarre.  But I guess that explains why they are known for being so tall.

The Belgians like having rabbits for pets, but they also enjoy eating rabbit.  At a dinner, every Belgian told me a story about how:

1 – As a child, their rabbit went missing one day, and that night they ate rabbit.

2 – Their rabbit eats all of the clothes, cables, furniture, etc. and poops everywhere.

3 – They threaten their children to clean up after the pet rabbit, or it will go “in the pot”.

It is weird to eat your pets?  Am I the only one that thinks so? 

Finally, a British co-worker who has been living in Belgium for 5 years and has a pet rabbit, told me the rabbit buying secret.  At the butcher, a rabbit costs 27 euros.  However, he discovered when buying his child a pet rabbit that at a pet store, a rabbit costs only 12 euros.  And he doesn’t mind “doing the deed” himself.

The longer I stay here, the closer I am to becoming a vegetarian.

Are you going to love me or eat me?

Are you going to love me or eat me?

Bambi Pate

Occasionally, when I am lucky, I recieve an invitation from the HR group at my work to join them for lunch.  And when I do join them, we go to a different deli than the one I go to normally.  They prefer the deli that is further away because it has a better selection and quality of meats.  For example, they have at least 5 different types of Filet Americain.

I know I have already mentioned once my horror at the raw meat eating phenomenon here, and my disbelief that people are still alive after consuming raw (cold) beef.  The shock has worn off a bit, but I am still slightly disgusted at a restaurant when someone orders a plate of cold raw meat with a raw egg.  But that is just me – if people want to eat that, it is their prerogative.

“Why are all the filet americains different colors?” I ask Christine, my lovely co-worker with endless patience for me and my questions.

“They are all different types of filet americain,” she responded.  And then she gave me the rundown.

For the true raw meat lover, there is the pure beef version. 

 Pure Beef

For those who want to mix up their sources of meat, there is the lighter version, with pork and maybe veal alongside beef.

filet-pork

For those who prefer a pureed style, with maybe some flavor, there is the curry or spicy filet americain.

filet-curry

All of these are smothered on a baguette. (or sometimes on a cracker)

filet-sandwich  filet-on-cracker

I saw one pureed, grayish looking mix sitting aside from all of the meats. 

deer-pate

“What about this one?” I asked. 

“Oh, that one.  That is not beef.  That is, how do you say, Bambi pate?”

bambi

Ah yes.  deer is also blended to perfection, thrown into a jar or can

pate-in-a-jar

before being spread with a knife on a baguette.  I believe deer pate is cooked, but need to confirm.

deer-pate-sandwich

I am curious on how deer tastes, but I will also add “bambi pate” to my list of things I will not eat here.

PS – As I was tempted to take pictures of the deli meats, I have lost my American edge and can’t do it.  These pictures are from the net.