Pepper, the spice of life

She scampered into my life about six and a half weeks ago, a little wisp of a kitten. Smooth, short black hair with a white chest, four white socks, a skunk stripe down her nose and the most gorgeous green eyes. She chased after a leaf as it danced in the howling wind, announcing that the storm was on its way. I stepped outside and called out "hey, kitty". She looked up from the leaf ran to me as if I were her long lost mother. She ran around my ankles and rubbed against me and purred. And purred. And purred. So I scooped her up, brought her inside to wait out the storm. And figure out what to do with her. That was my first mistake.

I considered my options - I could take her to the Humane Society, or I could take her home and care for her while checking Craigslist for a lost kitten ad, watch the neighborhood for lost kitty flyers. I called my husband and asked him to stop by the office on the way home from work - I have something for him to bring home. He shows up, sees me with kitten in hand and shakes his head, but he takes her for me. That was my second mistake.

I watched for a week but there were no ads or flyers to claim the little one so we visited the local veterinarian who announced that we were the parents of a 4 month, 4 lb kitten. We decided to keep her so she needed a name. Since she's black and white and makes us sneeze ... we named her Pepper.

Our cat, Senor Gato, took to her immediately and taught her the basic kitty skills. What a bundle of energy she was! They would chase each other through the backyard, pounce on each other and climb the trees. After a while she'd tucker out and fall asleep in a box by the window, with Senor Gato curled up around her.

Gato taught her how to stand up to our two runty hounds - Jackie Chan and Xena. Jackie tolerated the cats being in the same room and vice versa, but Xena was a little hellhound. When Xena and the cats were in the same room there was always lots of hissing and barking. But Pepper would stand her ground.

Last week, Pepper disappeared late one afternoon and we were sick with worry, looking for her well into dark. She didn't show up. It was going to be cold and we hoped that she had found a warm place to hold up for the night - like a neighbor's house. After all, Senor Gato had been known to do the same. When she didn't show up the next day, we distributed flyers to our neighbors. It was 9pm and we had just started to eat dinner when Xena ran outside and started barking. I opened the door to call her in and who was sitting at the doorstep but little Pepper. She was just sitting there looking at Xena. I gently picked her up and brought her in. My husband and I examined her. No puncture wounds, but there was a huge lump on her side, her claws were frayed and one nail was broken. Her head seemed swollen and she appeared dazed. I took her to the pet emergency hospital and for the next two hours waited for some news. She's in shock and suffering from hypothermia they said, but we're stablizing her. The x-ray shows that her intestines are pushed towards one side, but she didn't appear to have a hernia. The lump I felt? It could be body fat, or blood that would eventually reabsorb back into her body. All the evidence pointed to being hit by a car. She'll have to spend the night so we can monitor her progress, they said. Go home and we'll call you in the morning.

8:15am. The emergency hospital called to say that Pepper appeared to be feeling better. She looks more alert, they said. She spiked a fever during the night but her temperature is back to normal. She won't let us probe her abdomen - she's fiesty. That sounded more like my little girl. They kept her thoughout the day and wanted to keep her another night, but I couldn't afford a $1,000 bill. I said I would administer her medication and keep watch over her, so that night we went home. We got her all set up in the bathroom where she could rest quietly. I checked on her throughout the night and she seemed to be fine.

By morning, she had peed three times and had eaten a little food. But she had that dazed look again. She also looked a lot more swollen. We gave her some medication and left her to rest. I checked in on her a few hours later and readjusted her bedding. When she stood up I cried - her belly was hanging nearly to the floor. It seemed that her muscles had been torn couldn't support her internal organs. And her fever was back. We went to her regular vet - to hell with the cost.

But I had to be realistic. I wanted her to have the best quality of life. I wanted the whole kitten, one who was carefree and happy, free of pain, not a lame, lump of fur for the rest of her life. I asked the doctor - about operating on her. He reviewed the findings made by the emergency hospital, the prognosis was not good. Her liver count was high, indicating that it might have been damaged. There might be more internal damage that the ex-ray shows, but he wouldn't know until she was cut open. I couldn't see putting her through all that on the small chance that she might come out of it less than good. She'd been through so much already that we decided it would be best to let her rest in peace and remember her as she was.

We brought her back home that night and she joined two of our old dogs, Suzee and Adda in the garden. As we wrapped her body and laid her to rest, Senor Gato and the little hounds and watched. We lit three incense sticks, one for each pet who had crossed over the rainbow, and said a little prayer:

May all beings be happy.
May all beings be liberated from misery.
May all beings walk the path of joy, love and happiness.

Shortly after we cleaned up, there was a knock at the door. A couple from down the hill asking if we sent out the flyer about the kitten. I said yes, she came home injured and we took her to the vet. The vet thought she'd been hit by a car. No, this couple said, it wasn't a car - it was a dog. The woman was walking from her car and saw Pepper in the dog's mouth and was shaking the kitten back and forth like a ragdoll. She ran inside and came out with her husband. He hit the dog with a shovel so it would drop the kitten. The dog ran off and Pepper crawled away underneath a vehicle. They could see her lying on her side. They ran back inside to get a flashlight but when they returned Pepper had disappeared. Where she hid for a day and a half we'll never know, but somehow she made it home.

Pepper brought a lot of spice into my life. Now that she is gone, that spice will be missed.

The roach coach has made its approach ...

I am diligently pecking away at my laptop when a musical horn sounds off alerting anyone in a two block vicinity that the roach coach is making its approach. But I don't need to hear it coming - my window is closed up tight, yet I can smell it coming a mile away. The truck races through the parking lot. I look up and can almost see a cloud trail of grease following - racing - trying to catch up with the truck.

The truck rounds the corner and stops just beyond the front door to our lobby. The grease cloud slows down as well and re-envelopes the truck. Most days I successfully resist the urge to buy something from (I am ashamed to say) a menu I am all too familiar with. I've successfully avoided the grilled cheese(???!) sandwich, but I have indulged in the buffalo wings, beef tacos, sausage and egg sandwich. All are immensely improved by the addition of Vietnamese hot sauce. Amazing how something can be satisfying and gross at the same time. But there it is.

It is Friday and the urge is strong. I walk out of my office and into the main lobby, checking my pockets which contain $2.30 in change. Excellent - this limits what crap I can put into my body. I open the front door to test the air - the smell of grease is strong throughout the parking lot. The odor is almost enough to keep me from going outside, but not quite. I walk to the truck and look at the delectable culinary offerings it has to offer. Same-o same-o. I am about to walk away and proudly claim that I dodged the greasy bullet for another week ... when ... wait ... I see a bag of Cheetos Crunchy ... with my name on it.

Damn. I've fallen off the wagon - again. No use in cryin' about it. I finish my bag of Cheetos, lick orange dust from my fingers. Yummmm. I have the weekend to recover from ingesting junk food. It's okay. Come Monday, I'll smile and start over.

Waiting for the storm to pass

The weather has been miserable the past few days. I have the urge to cook, and it must be something that will comfort me - it must smell good while cooking and when it is eaten, it must warm me up from the inside out. But what would it be? On this night, the smells of chile verde, moqueca de camarao (Bahian style shrimp stew), or split pea soup cooking away are not going to comfort me. I thought of a dish my grandmother used to make, chicken tinola, basically chicken cooked in a ginger broth with some vegetables. There are more versions of this dish than Imelda Marcos has shoes. But I want to cook something more assertive this night. Osso bucco smells good, but I don't have veal shanks. What to do, what to do ...

I had gone shopping a few days ago at Costco and happened to pick up a package of oxtails. Okay... so no one ever "happens" to pick up oxtails - you have to have a specific dish in mind. For some reason I had in my brain and planned to make the oxtail soup that Chencha prepared for Tita in the book and movie, "Like Water for Chocolate".

Tonight, those oxtails will meet a different fate. First, dredge the oxtails in flour. To a dutch oven add some olive oil and heat until it shimmers, then fry the oxtails until they are brown. Remove from the pan. Take some sliced onion, celery and carrots and cook until they are soft, then return the oxtails to the pan. Add some liquid (water, broth, wine) to just cover the meat, drop in a bay leaf or two and simmer. In this case, I have some leftover vegetable broth, chicken broth and wine, so that's what goes into the pot. I make up the difference with water. Cook-cook-cook. At some point I add a can of Muir Glen Whole Tomatoes then made some flavor adjustments. Continue to cook until the meat is just about falling off the bones. Hmmm, it will be ready to eat soon and it will serve up nicely with some smashed garlic potatoes. Garnish with gremolata which is a mixture of minced garlic, lemon zest and chopped parsley.

The kitchen is alive and breathing. Finally, the house smells like a home. It is heaven tonight.