Tag Archives: chinese food

Ellie’s Tenth Birthday

Posted on December 2, 2023 by rachelmankowitz

            A week after seeing the substitute vet, and being told not to spend more money on tests, we were able to get an appointment with Ellie’s regular vet and he recommended an ultrasound, to see if her distended belly was filled with fluid or with something else; and he confirmed that it was all fluid. He recommended against trying to poke around with needles to empty the fluid, because it could stress her literally to death, and because the fluid would come back in a few days anyway. Instead, he raised her diuretic dose a little bit and sent us home, saying that, like with Cricket, if Ellie doesn’t eat for three or four days, she’s suffering.

            It certainly wasn’t the news we wanted to hear, but it is what we expected, and it was a relief to know for sure what we were dealing with.

            The raised dose of the diuretic helped a little bit, at least enough to allow Ellie to feel hungrier and to enjoy her food again. She especially liked the Chinese food we got for my birthday dinner. Her belly is still full of fluid, and she spends most of her time resting on her side, but her joy in eating is wonderful to see.

“Where are you hiding the Chinese food?”

            When we were looking through her papers recently (which makes it sound like she has her own filing cabinet and a small business to run, but we were just looking for her exact birthday so we could celebrate it with her), we realized that she is turning ten this year, not nine like I thought. There’s a little bit of relief in knowing she’s made it all the way to ten, just like there was relief in seeing Cricket pass the sixteen year mark, but it’s still not enough.

            We didn’t plan anything special for her birthday, because every day she’s still with us feels special and important, and really an act of will on her part. Just seeing her eat, and take all of her medication, and enjoy getting her back scratched, feels like a celebration to me. I’m so grateful that she wants to stay with us for as long as she can, and I’m especially grateful that we’ve been able to have this time with her, after Cricket’s death, to shower her with as much love and attention as she can absorb, so that she knows what it’s like to be the center of everything, at least for a little while. Even Cricket would have wanted that for Ellie, though not as much as she wanted it all for herself.

            Now we’re just going day by day, trying to accept that we won’t have that much more time with her. Her sweet spirit still shines through, even when she’s tired, or worried, or struggling to catch her breath, and we know how lucky we’ve been to have her this long.

            Happy birthday dear sweet Miss Ellie, my beautiful girl!

“I need more chicken, Mommy.”

If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my Young Adult novel, Yeshiva Girl, on Amazon. And if you feel called to write a review of the book, on Amazon, or anywhere else, I’d be honored.

            Yeshiva Girl is about a Jewish teenager on Long Island, named Isabel, though her father calls her Jezebel. Her father has been accused of inappropriate sexual behavior with one of his students, which he denies, but Izzy implicitly believes it’s true. As a result of his problems, her father sends her to a co-ed Orthodox yeshiva for tenth grade, out of the blue, and Izzy and her mother can’t figure out how to prevent it. At Yeshiva, though, Izzy finds that religious people are much more complicated than she had expected. Some, like her father, may use religion as a place to hide, but others search for and find comfort, and community, and even enlightenment. The question is, what will Izzy find?

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The Barbecued Ribs Fiasco

Posted on June 2, 2013 by rachelmankowitz

A Poopoo platter. Not my picture.

A Poopoo platter. Not my picture.

               As a kid, I was a fan of the Poopoo platter at the Chinese restaurant. I liked the blue fire and the drama of the contraption brought to our table, and the fried, oily, sweet and sticky finger foods on the trays. My brother and I also really liked saying “poopoo” out in public.

As I got older, I learned how to cook lighter versions of my Chinese food staples, but every once in a while, when I’m tired and grumpy and do not want to cook, Mom and I order take out Chinese. I’m usually careful to order non-fried dishes, with light sauces, and tons of extra vegetables. If I get dumplings they’re steamed and filled with vegetables. But sometimes the crappiness of the day is so awful that it requires extra special yummy, greasy, sweet food with no redeeming value. Like barbecued ribs, which are, only slightly, a more grown up take on the food in the Poopoo platter.

Before we adopted Butterfly, Cricket was an only dog, and took advantage of her role as only grand dog as often as possible. She knew her best bet was to sit on Grandma’s lap, because Grandma’s guilt buttons are stronger than her hunger buttons. So as soon as Mom had finished with one of her barbecued ribs, she handed it off to Cricket. We were eating special food, Mom said, why shouldn’t Cricket?

Cricket and Grandma sharing a snack.

Cricket and Grandma sharing a snack.

and another snack

and another snack

I knew that chicken bones were dangerous for dogs from way back, because someone, probably my brother, had given me a vivid description of how the bones could splinter in my dog’s throat or intestines, and pop them like balloons. But since I’d spent a large part of my childhood kosher, I had no idea what to expect of pork bones. I assumed they were the same as beef bones. They looked the same to me.

            Cricket sat on the floor with a bone between her paws and not only did she clean off the fat, and gristle, she started to eat the bone itself, crunch, crunch, crunch until it disappeared. There were no signs left, no garbage, just some stubborn oily stains on the hard wood floor. The first one went so well, I gave her my own leftovers. That way I could leave all of the extra fat on the bone and not feel guilty for wasting food.

            I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of retching. I called Cricket over and rubbed her back, and she went back to sleep next to me. But in the morning, there were two piles of predigested bone on my carpet and one spot where, clearly, there had been puke and it had been re-ingested.

            Much scrubbing later, I found older piles downstairs on the wood floor, and as the day went on the vomiting continued but became less productive, just puddles of spit, preceded by those awful, whole body spasms. I was afraid some of Cricket’s vital organs would be left in those piles on the floor. But after all of that, she was smiling, and asking for Parmesan cheese on her dog food and wondering when we were going to have ribs again.

            Sometimes you can only learn a lesson in the most vivid way possible. Just reading it as a list of no-no foods isn’t convincing, but seeing your dog turn inside out does the trick.

I try to be careful about what Cricket and Butterfly eat now. I looked up multiple lists of no-no foods and cross referenced and studied. But Cricket still prefers to eat whatever her Grandma has touched, and blessed for her. She would rather eat a piece of Grandma’s peanut butter and jelly sandwich than a flurry of Parmesan cheese on her dog food that never passed through Grandma’s hands. Food is love; food is relationship, even for dogs.

Butterfly and Cricket, begging for pizza.

Butterfly and Cricket, begging for pizza.

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