Let's start a Mutual Admiration Society
because there are things I love about you
and there are things you love about me.
Now let's go global.

Cliff’s birthday is

on Wednesday. I’m making him a checkerboard cake. Nothin’ says lovin like somethin’ from the oven, haha. But Carolyn just called and she wants to bake the cake, even better.

Her cakes are always better than mine. We’ll be at the beach enjoying the All-American Family Reunion.

Cliff’s family walks, talks, writes, and dreams about food. We start emailing each other weeks before our reunion full of excitement and preparation. This is serious business. We all have “our days” in the kitchen. Its been thought out. Elizabeth brings her personal cookbook with her very own recipes, no Barnes and Noble cookbook for her. Her recipes are neatly organized in their own clear sleeves. We drool and dream thinking about her day(s) in the kitchen. We wish she was in the kitchen the whole time. Sarah comes with her red, white and blues and enough music to keep us going for the week. London broil and fried rice is what you’ll get with Sarah and you better damn well like it. She won’t put up with any of your nonsense. Carolyn usually pops in and out in her jag, looking fit and fabulous. I think anytime you say “fit” you must say “fabulous.” The fit part is that she’s thin and the fabulous part is that she has a chef's coat with her name on it. She also cooks the most fattening things.

Best cookie to date was some kind of double-decker peanut butter filled concoction number that called for your bottom jaw to become unhinged like a rattler to eat. We all gladly unhinge. Cliff and I have eagerly joined in the fray, when it’s our turn; Cliff pulls out the big guns. Lobsters flown in from Maine seem to always be a favorite. The bigger the better and the hell with sides. Racing them on the terrazzo floors before boiling them to death seems cruel in a civilized world but we watch enough National Geographic to know we’re pretty mild. The kids when they were younger struggled between enjoying the races and being grossed out at their upcoming fate. Brings back memories of Christmases past and roasting pigs, but that’s for another day. Someday I’ll tell you about that. I’ve told a few people, always gauging whether they would think it was funny or incredibly disturbing. So far, the reaction has been mixed.

Anyway, that’s our reunion in a nutshell. If you don’t see one of us at Publix then it’s not our day in the kitchen…just look for us near the big grey house on the north side of New Smyrna, we’ll have settled in, umbrellas and beach chairs, books propped just so, and thermoses filled with whiskey sours…

Finding Ellie

"Mari, want to go antiquing in Sanford and on the way, maybe we could just pass by the shelters and see who's there...?" Brenda said casually as I picked up the phone yesterday morning. Sounded interesting, I hadn't been to Sanford in quite a while and you never know what sort of hidden treasure awaited the true hunter. But as for looking at the two shelters in Sanford, I didn't give it much thought or hope as I had seen their websites and they were mostly filled with Pit Bulls or Pit Bull mixes that, either way, looked scary and strange.




"O.K." I said, "Let me get my purse and I'll meet you in fifteen." Thinking we were going in her new "mid-life crisis", a sweet canary yellow convertible that looked reminiscent of Bruce Wayne's batmobile, I diligently applied 30SPF sunscreen, grabbed my black visor to match my red lipstick and headed out the door. As we walked out of her house, each with our necessary summer requirement, a large bottle of Zephyrhills, I almost skipped as I headed towards the amazing yellow man magnet.
"Oh no," Brenda said, "way too hot to take that one out, let's take the Volvo." Sighing, I took off my snazzy black visor and headed towards the quintessential momma mobile, the station wagon.




First stop, Seminole County Animal Control. The new beige building with the nice kelly green metal roof camouflaged the sadness and reality of what happens inside those walls. In we walked, the staff looked like the type of women you find in the south, the ones that don't mind getting dirty and most probably preferred the company of animals to people. But they looked nice enough in their medical/vet outfits with puppy and kitten printed tops in all colors. they pointed to some paws painted on the walls and said, "Follow those."
Off we went, through hallways and turns and finally through some doors to the outside and a separate building with two big metal doors. First stop was the kitty room. I don't know how the felines got to be so lucky but they had air conditioning, rocking chairs, sofas, and gigantic cat hotels. Not being a cat person, although we do own a cat, I was mildly interested as l looked at these cats hardly allowing myself to see how beautiful each were with their different colorings and exotic eyes.




Later on, I looked at the board behind the lady at the front desk. On the top it said "JUNE" and underneath there were columns of numbers.
"Are those numbers to date?" I asked thinking they were keeping a running tally since January.
"Oh, those…,” barely looking up from her computer, the heavy set woman with some surprisingly curly sideburn hair and matching chest hair said, "nope, just for the month of June." It read, Cats brought in: 645, Cats Euthanized: 525.
"Oh", I thought, "Oh... that's why they have it so good...” I could hardly look at it again. Animal CONTROL, not Animal SHELTER, here they put them down, here they kill them. I always wondered what was the difference. Now I knew. Suddenly those felines didn't look quite so lucky. With a heavy heart I continued on.
Brenda led the way. Usually when you walk with Brenda either your running or you’re seeing mostly the back of her head. Damn that woman walks fast! I hurried to catch up as she pushed the next set of doors that brought us outside once again. The dogs.




The heat and smell hit us like a runaway train only to be followed up by a cacophony of barking that would have brought a dead man up from the grave. As we slowly began to walk through and look inside each stall, dogs of all sizes, shapes and dispositions came towards us. As I had feared the first three stalls had Pit Bulls or Pit Bull mixes, three and four deep. They looked nice enough in a Charles Bronson kind of way. But I was happy there was a fence between us as they leapt showing either their happiness to see us or their desire to feed upon us. Brenda happily stuck her face towards each cage letting these creatures lick her face.
"Aren't you a big boy!" She cooed, "Come give mama a kiss!" 'COME GIVE MAMA A KISS!" Oh my aching back!!! Smiling, I acknowledged, this is the reason why she is Bad-Booty Brenda and I am not.





I was ready to go, it was hot, it was stinky, and none of these dogs looked like Ginger. Did I really want another Ginger though? I thought how could anyone replace my girl. No, I wasn't ready for another dog; it hadn't been that long, could I actually let myself feel that heartache again? No, I wasn't ready. But the house felt so quiet, there was definitely something big missing. And mom, who had never been a big animal person, longed for and wanted another companion that would share her day and be by her side.



"Hey, look at this girl" Brenda called out excitedly as I hurried to catch up to her once again. Looking in, I saw two black and white dogs. The first one took one look at us and high-tailed it to the other end of the stall. The second, moved as close as she possibly could to the gate and turned over, shining her big brown eyes at us, inviting us to give her belly a rub.
"Can I see this little girl?" I found myself saying to the Annie Oakley lady walking with a leash around her neck like a stethoscope.
"Sure! Ain't she a beaute! Fer the life of me, can't figure why she hasn't been snatched up yet but it's been mighty slow the last few months...aahh let's see, she's a Scottish Border Collie," she read, moving the paper back and forth like a trombone, "about 2 to 3 years old, heartworm negative, not spayed, no name, and scheduled to go in ten days."
"To go where?" I asked hoping she meant that this little dog was headed out to the vet to be fixed. "Well, we only have so much room...” her voice dropping along with her eyes.
I listen and wonder,



does she think the dogs can understand what she's saying? I look around feeling guilty; well they probably do on some level. I lower my voice as well. "I see." "And it's sad but the only fair way is to put a time frame on the animals once they get here. After a certain time, if they ain't adopted, they're put down, ain't nuthin we can do." She continued, even though she didn't need to. I had gotten the gist of the conversation.




As she opened the gate, black and white number one stayed in the corner looking at us suspiciously as black and white number two sat with her tail wagging staring up with what could only be called a smile. We walked to the designated "visiting area" and began to get acquainted.
"Sit" I commanded and she immediately sat.
"Give me your paw,” so far so good as she first raised her right paw and then her left. Her soft brown eyes eagerly looking to please. I found my heart melting, no she's not Ginger and she never will be but she's a good one. A really good one. Brenda looked at her teeth and inside her ears, feels her legs and hip area. Signs of a good horsewoman that Brenda. Satisfied she nods her head, "She's a keeper and she'll fit in good with the group."




I looked at her big brown eyes, "yes, that she is."




The phone rings five times, finally he picks up, "Hey Beaner, what's up?" Cliff sounds exasperated and hot through the phone line. Do I really want to break this news to him? "Hiiii, ummm, well Boot and I are at the Animal Shelter and um..." I stammer.
"Oh, Lord, do not tell me you've gotten yourself a dog!" He says before I can finish my sentence. "But they were going to put her down! And she's so sweet! And so well behaved! And they were going to put her down!!" I find myself practically screaming through the phone. A small chuckle comes through the line, ok that's good, I think.
"Why am I not surprised,." Cliff says, "we'll talk about it when I get home” I hear him chuckling as he hangs up the phone. I hear him tell the guys, well you'll never guess what my wife did. I smile; he's a good man.




So we now have a new addition to our family. In honor of her Scottish roots, we have named this little black and white Scottish Border collie, Elayne. We will call her Ellie. We'll send a note to Elayne in her castle in Edinborough to inform her of her namesake which undoubtedly will make her happy and proud.
Ellie will stay at the shelter while we're enjoying our family reunion and when we return, she will have been spayed and hopefully bathed. Although I think that might be too much to ask. But she will have a new life and hopefully a better life than what she's had.
We're happy to have found her.

p.s.

we found Chance in the parking lot of Home Depot