Bow Wow Meow

Come celebrate your love of animals at an opening reception from 6 to 9 p.m. Saturday at Alley Kat Art in Kapaa. Bow Wow Meow is a show featuring the works of five artists inspired by the critters in their lives. A portion of the proceeds will be donated to the Kauai Humane Society.
There will be live music, food and fire dancers.
These earrings are images of the shelter's residents fastened to a bottle cap collected from a Kauai beach. Kathy Cowan lovingly twisted the wire, turning them into jewels.

Love what comes

The perils of working in an animal shelter include risk of feline collection. I have two red, male kittens I am bottle feeding. Once they reach 2-pounds they can be neutered at KHS and put up for adoption.
Some weeks, I am not tempted at all to bring anyone home. Kittens from feral mom-cats flow through the door daily; some too small to put into our fostering program. Those are euthanized most the time for lack of a person willing to bottle feed them every two hours.
This week I had to save two.
Maybe it was because of the hound I witnessed carried in by a compassionate local guy two days before that softened my resolve. The dog was in frightening shape and this muscled, handsome man had tears welling up in his eyes as I led him back to a kennel where he lay the dog on a towel. Shaking his head in anger and disgust at whoever was responsible for this dying animal, he said a single word, "Who?"
When I see animals come to our shelter in this shape, I can't think about who is responsible.
I didn't respond to the man. I looked at the dog laying on the towel and said to him, "You are so smart to have escaped. We're glad you're here. What a good boy you are."
He wagged his tail.
How on earth he could still smile at me was a wonder.

Food is so pretty

Here are just a few of the ingredients for the recipe that follows.

Blogging Molly

I just bought a replacement copy of the "Moosewood Cookbook" by Molly Katzen. One of my first cookbooks, a "Moosewood" I received in 1991 from a Seattle roommate, has a blown-out binding and pages dotted with tomato, olive oil and tamari. Even though I have this new edition, I don't throw out the original. Why? Because the inscription reads, "May the Moose be with you." And it still is.

Gypsy Soup
Colorful and delicious: A feast for eyes and tummy.

· 3 tablespoons olive oil -- up to 4T
· 2 cups chopped onion
· 2 cloves chopped garlic
· 2 cups sweet potatoes -- chopped & peeled (Or winter squash)
· 1/2 cup chopped celery
· 1 cup chopped fresh tomatoes
· 3/4 cup chopped sweet peppers
· 1 1/2 cups cooked chickpeas
· 3 cups stock or water
· 2 teaspoons paprika
· 1 teaspoon turmeric
· 1 teaspoon basil
· 1 teaspoon salt
· dash cinnamon
· dash cayenne
· 1 bay leaf
· 1 tablespoon tamari soy sauce
In a soup kettle or large saucepan, saute onions, garlic, celery and sweet potatoes in olive oil for about five minutes.
Add seasonings, except tamari, and the stock or water.
Simmer, covered, fifteen minutes.
Add remaining vegetables and chickpeas.
Simmer another 10 minutes or so - until all the vegetables are as tender as you like them.
NOTES : The vegetables used in this soup are flexible.
Any orange vegetable can be combined with green...for example, peas or green beans could replace the peppers.
Carrots can be used instead of, or in addition to the squash or sweet potatoes, etc.

Chico’s Lament

It probably was because the cat was black I pulled a u-turn on Kaapuni Road to retrieve its body from the middle of my lane driving north. I’d successfully centered my tires over it, but knew it wouldn’t be long before the next driver angled left or right.
Chico is black; he’s one of a litter of three feral kittens I trapped last summer. I didn’t want someone to discover their own “Chico” in that condition. Ever since hitting and killing a Chihuahua on Kawaihau Road, I feel morally obligated to offer the bodies of road kill a respectful resting place.
This one was pretty gruesome. With two paper sacks I cradled the crushed body. One eyeball hung from four inches of ocular nerve and the tongue extended two inches from the mouth.
I lifted it gently to lay beneath a tree with a lovely crown, then found a long palm frond to cover his body. I told his spirit to go to the light and made him look as peaceful as I could by posturing his body in a smooth straight line and being sure to put the “bad” eye down. There was nothing I could do about the tongue.
I just know if the cat were Chico it would comfort me knowing he’d been touched tenderly and not left like a piece of rubbish in the middle of the road.
Then there was the dead cat I didn’t turn around for on the by-pass road. Two weeks after which it had become furry jerky ground into the asphalt. I guiltily drove past it recounting the day I’d seen this red tabby as a fresh kill – its compressed tail rose from the pavement to wave as I drove past; or maybe it was giving me the finger.
Why didn’t I turn around that day to lift him from the road? Was it because I don’t have a red cat? Honestly, I was in a rush to get home.
I considered it.
It was the end of the day and I was tired.
Then there was a day I opened the trunk of my car to discover a brand new red snow shovel. Yes, snow shovel. My husband has hygiene issues about my ritual lifting of the dead from Kauai roadways; the flattened boxes and paper sacks I utilize cause him concern.
I don’t want to hurt my husband’s feelings but I can’t imagine using it. I don’t like its utilitarian nature. Yes, a shovel would make the job more palatable for some, but I don’t do this out of duty to cleanliness; I do it out of a love for animals. There’s a tenderness to the bend of natural fiber as I raise the body to deliver to a gentler resting place.
I have no idea where that shovel is now. I pulled it out a few weeks ago. Maybe it’s behind the shed. This morning on my return from a zumba class I parked my car next to a dead white cat on Olohena, opened my trunk for a paper sack, and moved him off the road.
And no, I don’t have a white cat.

Morning Ritual

Your father always helped me make the bed;
his bony hands would snug the sheets up tight.
I know now, how much was left unsaid.

Fluff the pillows and straighten out the spread;
Smooth his side in the morning quiet.
Your father always helped me make the bed.

His memory is a place, I dare not tread.
Eight months I’ve pushed his absence from my sight.
I know now, how much was left unsaid.

I wish I hadn’t lived inside my head;
stubbornly withdrawing, I’d take flight.
Your father always helped me make the bed.

We lay together at night with books we read,
he’d sigh and give me one small kiss good night.
I know now, how much was left unsaid.

I woke today familiar with this dread;
reached for him in the gathering light—
Your father always helped me make the bed;
I’d tell him now the words I left unsaid.

Wall hanging/Fridge magnet

Ganesh, remover of obstacles, is a Hindu deity. The form was first sculpted and then cast. Each one is hand finished and there are around 25 available colors ranging from pink to silver. They are $20 each.