Cooking in the West

Often it is true that the dead become greater in death than they were in life. Such was not the case when our adopted dog, Marvin, died, and he became an international rock star on Facebook when within hours he received tributes from ranch vacation guests as far away as Germany, Norway, and Sweden.

We adopted Marvin rather unwillingly when my Uncle Shorty Roberts died. Two years earlier, Shorty had asked me to take his constant companion, his Jack Russell terrier, Jackson, to be euthanized. It was time, so I had reluctantly agreed. However, before I took Jackson, I decided to find a replacement companion for Shorty.

The next day I found myself in Billings. My County Superintendent colleague, Judy Martin, and I were sitting in a hot room at a conference on a sweltering afternoon in July trying to absorb the finer points of school finance when the idea hit me. Maturely, I wrote Judy a note that said, "Do you understand any of this or do you want to go dog shopping instead?" She wrote YES in all caps, so at the break we made our excuses and escaped to scour all of the shelters in Billings.

Feeling like truant students, we spent a couple heart wrenching hours visiting animal shelters before we found Marvin. He was the only dog in the hundreds up for adoption that looked like a Jack Russell---except that he wasn't. He was a smooth haired fox terrier, but he was well trained. Shorty loved him instantly, but that didn't make saying goodbye to Jackson easier for either of us. As I drove from the vet clinic to the ranch to bury him, I felt sort of like the character Captain Call in "Lonesome Dove" as he undertook the grisly duty of returning Gus's body to Texas per his request--except that my journey didn't involve thousands of miles and many hardships.

Shorty's primary estate planning concern was care for Marvin after he died. Of course, I agreed to take him; although I hoped that Shorty would outlive Marvin. Such was not the case, so we ended up with a heartbroken Marvin. He didn't eat for days. Our border collie, Mitzi, was not happy about the adoption. FYI a terrier's head fits completely inside a border collie's mouth. Eventually, Mitzi accepted him, and Marvin became part of the family. In fact, one time when Mitzi tired out in the middle of a big pond she was swimming across, Marvin jumped in and valiantly swam out to her, circled around her, and appeared to encourage her to get back to the shore. I was really glad, because it was a cold March day, and I did not want to think about attempting an animal rescue under those circumstances.

Marvin talked in growls. When commanded to kennel, he would growl out a string of epithets, but he would go begrudgingly. Then he would spend five minutes growling noisily rearranging his bed inside his kennel to suit himself. His bed had to be remade each time he entered his kennel. Marvin spent many hours in "time-out" in his kennel, mainly because he thought he was a cow dog. Like many humans who have not grown up around cattle, he automatically assumed he knew exactly what to do with cows just because he now lived on a ranch. Generally Marvin could figure out the exact wrong spot in which to be during cattle moving.

For example, one morning after shipping, I awoke to a calf bawling outside my window. About the same time, my grandson Alex called, "Grandma!" This meant two year old Alex was awake, and the heifers we were weaning were in the backyard instead of their pen. No one else was home, so Alex, Marvin and I would have to get the heifers in. This task took one hour and six minutes, and the heifer pen is only 30 yards from the house.

Heifers were scattered all over between the barn and the house by the time Alex and I were dressed and ready for our mini cattle drive. In my haste, I forgot to put Marvin in his kennel. Carrying Alex, who weighed a lot for a two year old, I started hazing the heifers towards the open yard gate. Marvin decided they weren't going fast enough to suit him, so he soon had them circling the yard at a bawling lope. They tried to get out the gate several times, but Marvin sabotaged our efforts each time by running into the gate and barking as they came around the fence line.

Finally he heard my commands (which might not have been 100% appropriate for a grandmother) over his piercing bark, and we got the heifers out of the yard. Now, we had to group them together and head them towards the corral. Let's just say that by now I was completely winded, so I barely had enough breath to scream at Marvin as he chased them through the electric fence. Of course, those heifers had never seen an electric fence before, but somehow I found enough oxygen to curse Marvin's mother for his indiscretion.

After several attempts to get the heifers back across the electric fence that was now lying pretty much flat on the ground for a long stretch where they stampeded through it, I decided that I had way too much help. I started the car, fastened Alex in his car seat, yelled, "Load up!" to Marvin, and we were off cowboying in our rolling kennel/playpen. It was one of those times when I am really glad that we have no close neighbors. Fortunately, no one saw me herding juiced up heifers in our Ford Taurus with a yapping dog and a screaming child as passengers. Eventually, by driving and honking the horn, and occasionally getting out to run on foot while Marvin babysat Alex, we got the heifers back where they belonged--over an hour later.

Marvin would often have to be kenneled in the stock trailer when we were working cows. Miraculously athletic, he could jump up several feet and hang on to the side of the trailer like he was doing pull-ups. He could hang there by his forepaws for a long time peeking out to see what activity he had been banished from and barking in protest the entire time. On the bright side... a barking horse trailer can be a useful cattle moving device when used as a portable corral wing.

Marvin was a terrible cow dog, but he was such a clown, that he wormed his way into our stock dog hearts. It is awfully quiet around here without him. I am amazed that he became an international hero posthumously when our ranch vacation guests from around the world posted photos of him and that a little dog that started out as a burden has left a hole in our hearts!

With triple digit heat scorching us here in Montana, it is too hot to cook so I decided to run some salad recipes this week! These recipes all came from a wonderful cookbook compiled by the Huntley Montana United Methodist Church. It was published in 2007, but I believe you can still obtain a copy on their website http://www.huntleyumc.org.

Clarice Gabel's Copper Penny Carrots:

5 C. sliced carrots, cooked

1 med. onion, chopped

1 green pepper, diced

1/4 C. salad oil

1 can tomato soup, undiluted

1/2 C. sugar

1/3 C. vinegar

1 t. prepared mustard

Mix oil, soup, sugar, vinegar, and mustard. Pour over vegetables and refrigerate overnight. This keeps very well.

Gretchen Schubert's Layered Lettuce Salad:

1 head lettuce

1 C. celery, diced

4 eggs, hard boiled and sliced

10 oz. pkg. frozen peas, uncooked

1/2 C. green pepper, diced

1 sweet onion, diced

8 slices bacon, fried and diced

2 C. mayonnaise

2 T. sugar

4 oz. Cheddar cheese, grated

Tear lettuce into small bite-size pieces and place in a 9 X 13 dish. Layer rest of ingredients in this order: celery, eggs, green pepper, onion, bacon. Add the sugar to the mayonnaise and spread over the top as you would frost a cake. Top with grated cheese. Cover and refrigerate for up to 12 hours. At serving time, you can garnish with additional bacon or parsley.

Marion Moots's Shrimp Supper Salad:

3 oz. pkg. lemon Jell-O

1 C. boiling water

1/2 t. salt

1 T. grated onion

1/2 C. mayonnaise

1/2 C. heavy cream, whipped

5 oz. can small shrimp, drained

3 hard cooked eggs, chopped

8 oz. cubed cheese

1 t. green pepper, chopped

1 C. broken walnuts

Dissolve Jell-o in boiling water. Add salt and onion and mix well. Let sit until syrupy. Combine mayonnaise and whipped cream. Beat into Jell-O. Add the rest of ingredients and chill until firm.