Maggie, musing & dressing for the holiday

There was a dressing mishap at our house last night.

I was away for about an hour and when I checked back, my sugar'n'spicespouse Martha, a sensational cook at all levels, was in a fine sweat. Nearly a dither.

Yes, a dressing mishap. What? No, not clothing dressing. Holiday dressing.

Before we explain, , we need to take care of some other business.

THE ADOPTION OF A GOOD DOG: When we first met this dog just a couple of days ago, her name was Tess. She was in the Rockwall Animal Shelter after being treated for a mangled paw.

You may recall that the description of her discovery was that someone heard a dog howling in pain in a ditch and when rescuers showed up, there was Tess.

Chris Valentine, the Rockwall Animal Shelter manager, got word out about Tess needing a good home to tend to her paw and to make sure she was safe.

Enter Mark Heymann. That's him sitting proudly with the dog formerly known as Tess, now known as Maggie and now living with Mark in the Addison/Carrollton area..

Here's how this match happened.

Mark writes, "I lost my dog of 13 years six months ago and knew that I would just know the right dog when I saw him/her. 

"My heart bled when I saw Maggie (aka: Tess – The Wonder Dog) with her paw bandaged and read the story over and over.  How could someone not love that dog, not look for her, not worry that something had happened to her. One look in her eyes and I could see what a good loving heart she had.  I have loved dogs all my life. They are often much more loyal and better companions then most people.

"Disclaimer: I have been blessed with finding that rare breed of people in Terri my girlfriend (honestly).

"I also know that Maggie will grow with us as a family and be in as many photo albums as we can fill as part of our lives.  ... Her paw is healing well.  I take her to the vet every 3 days for a fresh bandage and ointment.  I also put her on antibiotics immediately. She is starting to apply pressure on her foot again so things look bright."

So, readers, there's a good story to start your Thanksgiving celebration. And doesn't that dog look like a natural in the sporty ragtop? Maggie, homeward bound, and happy to be riding shotgun.

HOW ABOUT THOSE COOKBOOKS? Just FYI as we enter the cooking season. John Harper of Paws in the City tells me there are "plenty" of those special cookbooks left -- the ones that benefit Paws and Metroplex Animal Coalition. (There's an ad on the right side of this page.) They make great gifts and they also make great tools in the kitchen.

And, just fyi, my sweetspouse Martha's once carefully guarded chocolate chip cookie recipe is in the book. These are legendary cookies. We don't know what their shelf-life is -- they're always gone before it's time to put them on a shelf.

THE DRESSING: So, as I began today's report, Martha was having a dressing mishap. She was preparing some cornbread dressing for Thursday's big feast and she tasted it. To her horror, it was sweet. Too sweet.

And when I called she'd just hit on the solution: Have Larry go to a grocery store on his way home and buy corn meal to mix in with the recipe and .. Well, it's like gravity or radio -- I'm not sure how it works. But Martha says it'll be just fine and it won't be too sweet.

This is, by the way, vegetarian dressing -- made with vegetable broth, lots of onion, celery, assorted seasonings, evaporated milk and eye of newt.

Wait, don't follow that recipe. I think I've mixed something up. Eye of newt isn't a vegetable. I'm pretty certain.

At any rate, you may recall that I began yesterday's report with a vow that I would not go to a grocery store on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. I've made that mistake before. It's a madhouse. People are lunatics. It's like every angry freeway driver decided to shop at the same time.

So, on Tuesday night, around 10 p.m., I found myself with just a few items -- paper towels, soft drinks and two small bags of corn meal (one white, one yellow) -- in the fast lane at my local Fiesta mart. But it was not the fast lane. The other four open lanes were not all that fast because lots of shoppers were getting an early jump. Foiled again, I thought. No matter what happens, I'm in a glacial line.

I was third in line behind a woman who had a bunch of meat and an expectant woman who had a few purchases of candy and things an expectant woman might crave in the middle of the night -- Gummy Bears, for example.

The woman with all the meat was paying with plastic and somehow the machine misread something and froze. I thought our cashier was going to weep.

But, five minutes later, all gadgets happily rebooted, we were all happily anticipating a quick checkout.

The expectant lady moved swiftly through the process -- she tried to pay with exact change, but the weary checker had already made change for a large bill and both agreed to just move on.

Then it was finally my turn and as the checker was scanning my items, I asked, "Do you have to work Wednesday."

"Yes," she nodded. "It'll be a rough day."

But she seemed up for it. She was upbeat, though I thought I detected a hint of a tear in her eye at the thought of the lines that will be forming today.

I couldn't face them as a customer -- I don't know how any employee can face them without a periodic breakdown or a periodic shot of a calming elixir.

So, readers, as you finish this item today, I'd like for you to say a special prayer for the grocery store checkers.

May their registers never freeze, may they need no price-checks, may the bagging clerks be omnipresent and vigorous and may, at the end of the day, they find themselves happy to have enjoyed a key part of the American holiday. Oh, yeah: May all the customers be so nice that it's a pleasure to work on such a busy day.

Enjoy your holiday, too, dear readers.

As Inky, the Cocker Laureate of the State of Texas, writes:

Honor each tasty bite,

but be careful with what you choose

If you eat too many good things

You soon won't see your shoes.

Yes, that is Inky giving us his impression of the Mayflower Mascot, Rebel the Plymouth Pig, racing into a New England meeting hall and spotting a big ol' steaming platter of Mom's Miles Standish Mayflower Meatloaf. No Thanksgiving is complete without it, pilgrim.